Of Vigilance, Mercy and Insanity
by AugustinianFrog
Summary: Some days you have to settle for what you can get. For a Vigilant of Stendarr, if a bad day involves shadowy plots and the inkling that you are at the whims of Divines and Daedra, you would pray dysfunctional teammates should be the least of your worries.
1. Chapter 1

**Vigil ****of ****Mercy**

Tamriel had seen better days.

The Cyrodillic Empire was in a perilous position against the Aldmeri Dominion. In the north, Skyrim was embroiled in a civil war while dragons lurked from the skies. Conflict was alive and well in Hammerfell as Redguards continued the defiance against their hated Aldmeri opponents. Indeed, The Summerset Isles, Valenwood and even Elsweyr had fallen under the Aldmeri Dominion's sway.

Tamriel had seen better days.

Perhaps the world had gone mad. Indeed, up north in Skyrim they talked about the end of the world heralded on the wings of a midnight dark dragon. Maybe that was just the mead talking in the Nords. Maybe Mephala, the Webspinner, had weaved her most diabolical tale yet and all the mortals of Tamriel were caught in her deadly trap. It was possible that with the Empire forsaking Talos, the Patron of just and civil rule, Talos had forsaken them. Perhaps the mortals of Nirn needed to remember and follow the biddings of Julianos, the Divine of wisdom.

Or maybe Sheogorath was the wise one in this whole ordeal, the only one in fact sane while the world went mad. Well, perhaps "wise" is too strong a word. Maybe he was the only honest one about it.

Regardless of the truth, it was no doubt that in these turbulent times on Tamriel, one would do well to pray to Stendarr for mercy. Divines knew everyone needed it.

Nonetheless, the Divine of mercy is also the Divine of justice. Compassion is to be given to all, but compassion without accountability is not compassion but appeasement. Law had to be maintained and the worst of excesses curbed. There are some things that just did not belong on Tamriel, some things that could not be allowed to exist. The Vigil of Stendarr was formed to root out the gravest of all evils, paramount among them was the worship of daedra.

Most of the Daedric Lords had little regard for mortal life, treating them as mere play things as best. Nonetheless, there were always those still willing to worship even the worst of the Daedric Lords. That was were the Vigilant of Stendarr came in. Someone needed to make sure that such consorting with chaos was put down.

Most of the time, putting down Daedric cults was a simple process. Most of the time. Such cults usually consisted of unorganized and ill disciplined dissidents or those too curious for their own good. Such types were easily taken care of by the standard Vigilant of Stendarr. However, there were those rare occasions where a vampire had gained too much power, a werewolf too crafty, a Daedric cult too organized for a regular squad of Vigilantes.

When there was an enemy too dangerous or too entrenched, the Vigilant of Stendarr always had more experienced and better equipped teams to call on. They were not given a special name or status, the only thing that set them apart was their prowess, experience and reputation.

Archon Tacitus Orthello was the leader in charge of Wayrest's Vigilant of Stendarr group, a major city in High Rock. Tacitus had become cautious in his older age and the Bretons of High Rock had just as much of a perchance of getting into trouble as any other race in Tamriel, even if they did not want to admit it. Tacitus had searched for at least one experience group of Vigilants to be within his district.

The group he found was led by a woman named Claudia Vivinici.

Though, it seemed that along with everything else in Tamriel, even his most dangerous squad led under a competent woman had its own affinity for getting into trouble.

"I swear, Tacitus, if you don't let the men go out and do something they may accidentally destroy something in the cathedral. They don't know how to simply sit and wait like everyone else." Claudia said as patiently as she could despite barging into the Archon's study.

Interrupted from his meditations, Tacitus silently glanced up at her.

Claudia was in her white priestess robes, most vigilants of Stendarr were also spiritual leaders. Her hair, dirty blonde, was tied back in a bun while her sharp almond eyes continue to bore into Tacitus, demanding an answer. Claudia was all business, a professional woman who strove for a balance between discipline and casualness, ideal and practicality.

Now was a time that demanded practicality.

"What is going on now, Claudia?" Tacitus asked through barely hidden exasperation.

"I have told you this many times, Archon, but just because my team chooses to wear priestly robes, it does not mean its the best outfit for them. Sibylla is honestly better suited wearing her armor and knocking heads with bandits rather than knocking sense into the devoted here. If one more visitor so much _touches_ an offering plate and jostles the offerings inside, Bann-Je may go bonkers and toss them out before ruthlessly reorganizing the contents again in his obsessive compulsiveness. Do'Ravier has been quiet for the past few hours." Claudia reported.

"So at least the Khajiit is acclimitizing." Tacitus shrugged.

"No, Tacitus. Do'Ravier being quiet can either be a good thing or a bad thing. If its good quiet, then he's just contemplating something profound. If it's bad quiet, then we're going to have another incident like last week where one of his experiments blasted the doors of his room clean off its hinges." Claudia snapped.

Tacitus, feeling himself lose yet another hair on his receding hairline, could see that Claudia was not going to be easily pacified this time.

"Do you have a decision, Archon?" Claudia said, her tone just below a demand under her challenging eyes.

Archon Tacitus met her gaze though he let out an exasperated sigh.

* * *

><p>Claudia did her best to not slam the door as she stomped out of the archon's office. Any chance of trying to compose herself before she reported to her team came to a crashing halt the moment she realize they were in fact waiting for her in the hallway.<p>

"So, what did he say?" Sibylla asked expectantly, the tall Nord woman folding her arms.

"I am curious to know myself." Bann-Je asked, his serpentine tongue flicking out of his mouth for a moment.

"Can I go explore a Dwemer ruin now?" Do'Ravier asked, his tail's rapid swishing giving away his excitement.

"No." Claudia growled with a sigh.

"What?" Sibylla demanded, her tone rising with anger.

Bann-Je snapped his Argonian jaws shut in a display of disapproval.

"I was under the impression we would be doing more than just desk work when we signed into the Vigilant of Stendarr." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"Archon Tacitus said he would try to get us an assignment as soon as possible." Claudia explained.

"Then could I go explore a ruin on my off hours?" Do'Ravier pleaded.

"No, he doesn't want to risk anyone of us getting needlessly hurt." Claudia replied.

"Then can I at least punch the next idiot troublemaker who asks for my advice?" Sibylla asked.

"No, Sibylla, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" Claudia snapped.

"I'm going reorganize the offering plates and then snap the neck of the next pilgrim who disturbs them." Bann-Je announced.

"_NO__!_ All of you, for the love of Akatosh, behave!" Claudia screeched.

Claudia was rewarded with a moment of silence as the Nord, Argonian and Khajiit sent startled stares in her direction.

"Just hold out for another few more days, surely you can accomplish not punching, maiming and blowing something up for awhile more, right?" Claudia demanded.

"Better pray to all the Divines on that one." Sibylla shrugged, walking off.

"Yes." Bann-Je agreed, joining the Nord woman.

Claudia sighed before glancing over at Do'Ravier who was still staring at her.

"What?" the woman snapped iritiably.

"Do you know what a mixture of one part charcoal, another part salt and three parts fire salts does?" Do'Ravier asked.

"No, why?" Claudia inquired.

"I don't know either, but we're about to find out." Do'Ravier grinned.

Later that day, the doors of Do'Ravier's room blew off their hinges again.

Claudia may have been in command of the Vigilant's best team but that did not mean they were the most stable.


	2. Chapter 2

_Do not anger Akatosh, lest you face the wrath of the foremost Divine_

_Do not anger Molag Bal, lest you face the wrath of the most sadistic of Daedra_

_Do not anger Mephala, lest your judgement come from where you least suspect_

_You cannot anger Sheogorath, he is already quite mad._

* * *

><p>The Vigilant of Stendarr are a group of people that wear several different hats. On some occasions, they are representatives of the Divine of justice and mercy, on other occasions they also act as priests of the Divines, not just Stendarr. On one moment they may be just another meek member of the Imperial Cult, on another occasion they act in the sinister role of an inquisitor.<p>

People forget that anyone from any of those roles still have their own personalities.

At the Wayrest Temple of the Divines, every member who worked and lived in the Cathedral was expected to take part in the morning prayer. This was a highly ritualized event, taking place when the bell tolled six times in the morning. The staff would be up from their sleep and stand outside the doors of their rooms. Only until all of the staff had assembled would they walk in unison and in line to the main sanctuary. There, the Archon would lead them in morning prayer before they were dismissed to start their daily duties.

That was the ideal plan. It did not always happen that way.

The single bedrooms for Claudia, Sibylla, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je were all in a row right next to each other. Claudia was the first to leave her room and despite the fatigue, wore her best devout face as she stood outside her closed door awaiting for the others.

Do'Ravier was the next to exit his room but the Khajiit barely caught himself from falling flat out on the floor when he nearly tripped on his tail. Bann-Je was next but no sooner did he step out of his room did he walk backwards only to walk forward back out of his room again. In fact, he repeated this process three times until his OCD finally allowed him to remain standing outside. This was in full view of the other monks were still had not gotten used to Bann-Je's eccentricities and were doing their best not to stare.

Sibylla was the last to exit and her face was etched with a deep scowl, obviously unhappy with being awake at this hour.

"Couldn't you at least try to look civilized, Sibylla?" Claudia scolded barely above a whisper.

"That last bottle of mead made a very compelling argument for me to drink it last night." Sibylla grumbled in her heavy Nordic accent.

"So now will you at least try to consider temperance and moderation with the drink?" Claudia retorted.

"I'll definitely have a temper if you keep pestering me, Claudia." Sibylla snapped quietly as the robed monks clasped their hands together in prayer and walked with one accord toward the sanctuary.

If Archon Tacitus noticed the tense whispers from what should have in fact been a silent procession entering the sanctuary, he pretended to ignore them. Every now and then there would be some funny business among the monks, even the most cloistered monastery would have its own form of drama. Tacitus also reminded himself that of those gathered within the reverent halls of the Cathedral, there were a select few...special...individuals. This would just have to be the nature of the beast.

And after last night's explosion, a few whispers could be politely ignored.

The archon led them all in a reverent, quiet prayer to the eight Divines. If there was any funny business going on, he did not notice. After all, he had his eyes closed himself and maybe it was for the best. Unknown to him, Sibylla nodded off momentarily and nearly fell flat on the floor if she had not caught herself at the last moment. Of course, the sudden movement aggravated her hurting, hung over head and she stifled a groan.

Finishing the prayer, Archon Tacitus did not need to dismiss them as the staff and monks already knew their routine. The archon went back to his study to handle the papers and other managerial duties that was needed in a cathedral. While Bann-Je's obsessive orderliness made him a subject of ridicule, it also made him a usual assistant to the priests of Arkay. Arkay was the Divine of life and living and as such, it usually fell to the priests of Arkay to act as surgeons and physicians. Every healer needs a clean and well organized set of instruments and tools, something Bann-Je was all too willing to provide. Repeatedly.

Sibylla, despite her sinewy body and equally tough demeanor, served as an advisor to those seeking guidance from the priests on all manner of difficulties. Granted, once they sorted through Sibylla's gruff exterior and short patience, they often found a gem of practical wisdom that the simple Nord woman occasionally produced. This was a byproduct of Sibylla's experiences from having travelled around most of northern Tamriel as an adventurer and blade for hire. However, on occasions Claudia had to be be around to soften some of Sibylla's more coarse traits.

Claudia, when she wasn't trying to keep her team in line, was acting as the Cathedral's mother. There was inventory to check, supplies that needed to be purchased, treasuries that needed accounting, a dozen errands that needed tending to. Also, there was the constant stream of visitors that needed help getting to the right people to help them.

Even Do'Ravier had his uses. Despite quickly gaining a reputation for explosive experiments, the Khajiit was in fact one of the most education personnel within the temple, a fact he also liked to hide. If there was a medical problem the lay healers could not handle, they called the eccentric cat to look at the problem. If there was a theological question that the other priests were unsure of, the crazy Khajiit was consulted.

Of course, all four of them were also anxiously awaiting for when they might be called upon to utilize their talents for stamping out evil.

Two lay healers were tending to several severely wounded miners who were injured in a mining accident a few days ago. The miners before them were not responding well to healing spells and the physicians felt it had something to do with the catastrophic burns they had sustained when a natural gas pocket vented into the mine which then came in contact with a torch.

They were barely paying any attention to Bann-Je who was diligently, almost religiously, keeping in step behind them.

"The standard healing spells are still not sufficiently closing the wounds and this is the third day of treating them, Brother Ulfred." the first healer said in frustration to his compatriot.

"Spells are not everything. Where those fail we need to resort to old fashion methods; the use of tools, cleaning of the wounds, removing foreign material, healing salves and letting the body's natural regeneration do the trick, Brother Gemiedies." Brother Ulfred explained, placing a dirty and bloodied tweezer on a nearby table.

Bann-Je had swiped it in a flash, replacing it with a spotless tweezer just as quick.

Neither Brother Ulfred or Brother Gemiedies noticed, too engrossed in their work.

"The body of man, mer or beast, while a marvel of creation is also a dirty one, prone to breaking. The body must remain clean, and so too the tools that are used to operate on them. We would not want to implements of healing to in fact bring sickness." Brother Ulfred continued his earnest dictation.

"This is a dying art, you know?" Brother Gemiedies replied as Brother Ulfred returned an operating knife to the table, the implement spotted in gory red.

"Quite to the contrary, this should be a growing art." Brother Ulfred argued, oblivious to the Argonian furiously scrubbing the blade in soap and alcohol before being rinsed and meticulously dried.

"Sicknesses, diseases, poisons and wounds cannot always be answered with spells. Any healer who wishes to truly earn that title must also know this lost art. Nothing is more embarrassing than facing a malady that won't go away in the face of a healing spell." Brother Ulfred finished, surveying his work before giving an approving nod and walking off.

No sooner had they left, Bann-Je frantically and expertly redid the bandages on the victim so that they met his higher standards before disappearing in a flash.

Elsewhere, Claudia and Do'Ravier waited at the door of the Cathedral of Eight. Since Claudia was the overseer of most of the operations at the temple, inventory being one of them, it was only necessary for her to make sure that everything was accounted for during the delivery they received from the merchants. Do'Ravier had to be there because he took care of most of the alchemical business at the cathedral, and therefore it was only logical for him to be there as well.

"Why are you causing so many explosions with your experiments? Are you doing this on purpose?" Claudia demanded out of the blue.

"I don't do that on purpose, you know. Do you think I enjoy brushing off the singed furs from my body?" Do'Ravier retorted. While his voice was harsh like most Khajiits, his pronunciation of words was much better than what most people would have expected. He had a commanding ability over Cyrodillic idioms, phrases and vocabulary. If it was not for his accent, most people would have forgotten they were speaking to a Khajiit. He even used the word "I" just as well as anyone else did.

However, Claudia did notice that there were certain times he liked to drop into the typical Khajiiti butchery of the common language, resorting to referring himself in the third person. Claudia sensed that there was a pattern to Do'Ravier's behavior but she had not figured it out yet.

"Then why is it in two weeks straight there are two explosions?" Claudia chided.

"Last week, I was working on a portable means of producing light in dark places. I got the light like I wanted but the explosive force was not intended. This week, I was more interested in the fire salts bit, maybe I could find a way to make a readily available flame kit, easier to use than flint and steel." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"And instead, you got fire and an explosion. Again." Claudia muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"I can't help but feel that there must be some way to apply what I'm finding..." Do'Ravier mumbled.

"Uncontrolled explosions will never catch on, Do'Ravier." Claudia said.

"But what about controlled explosions?" Do'Ravier offered.

"Listen to yourself. 'Controlled explosions?' That's oxymoronic." Claudia scoffed.

"I'll find something for it." Do'Ravier grumbled.

And that was when the door opened, revealing the caravan team arriving to deliver their products.

The cathedral had struck a deal with a caravan team that was based out of Hammerfell. Despite Hammerfell being literally disowned by the empire, trade still had to continue except now prices had to reflect the changes of the political winds. Nonetheless, the staff still felt that this one caravan team still provided the best quality and range of products at a reasonable price.

"Good day, Morgan. Were your travels safe?" Claudia asked the Redguard merchant.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. A few bandits, nothing the guards couldn't handle." Morgan replied, handing Claudia a bill that listed all the items they had shipped.

"Does it all look in order, Do'Ravier?" Claudia asked while her eyes still scanned the parchment.

"Yes..." Do'Ravier muttered distractedly. In fact, his eyes were locked onto a comely Breton woman who must have been a new addition to the caravan. She was coming right to him too.

"Here's the last of your rosebud hips and other herbs. Are you an alchemist?" the woman asked, handing him a burlap sack.

"Uh...yes. This one, I mean, my name is Do'Ravier. You are?" Do'Ravier blathered.

"Celestie. I just stared working with the caravans a few days ago." Celestie smiled.

"Ah, how nice. So you will be returning often, yes?" Do'Ravier asked.

"I'm sure. This is part of my assigned circuit." Celestie nodded.

"I think we're done here, Do'Ravier." Claudia said, trying to get the Khajiit's attention.

"Ah, yes! I will have to put these away. Nice meeting you, Celestie. Hope to see you safe here once again." Do'Ravier said quickly and started fumbling in putting away the supplies.

After the doors shut behind the caravan, Claudia caught up to Do'Ravier who was doubled over under all the weight of the supplies he needed to bring back to his lab. Claudia made no effort to help him, instead she settled with looking at him with an incredulous smirk.

"She has a pretty face and she seems like a nice person, but really, Do'Ravier?" Claudia jibbed.

"What are you talking about?" Do'Ravier asked, carefully navigating the steps to his room.

"I know our emotions can get the best of us sometimes, but I don't think very many Bretons might have a thing for Khajiits, if you know what I mean." Claudia explained.

"Please, you are thinking too far ahead. I just met her. She just caught my eye, that's all." Do'Ravier muttered quietly, not wanting others to hear.

"Seemed to be more than just your eyes, your wit and tongue seemed to go too. Ha! The Breton caught the Khajiit's tongue! Hahaha!" Claudia laughed at her own joke.

Do'Ravier was not amused.

On the other side of the cathedral, Sibylla was stealing a moment away from the constant stream of the pious asking for advice. When Sibylla first signed onto the Vigil of Stendarr, she thought it she was going to be in a constant state of fighting the spawn of evil and daedric cults. For awhile, that's exactly what it was but soon the higher ups figured out that her talents were better served working for more specialized teams. That was how she ended up working under Claudia but with the transfer also came the long periods of inactivity.

At first, Sibylla nearly went insane with the lack of duties. Sure, she did believe in the Eight Divines and all but at the end of the day, she was a fighter, just like the rest of her ancestors. For her, a prayer was a two minute ritual on the eve of battle. There was no way she was going to spend all day praying when she could at least be sparring.

There was an amazingly short supply of people to spar with at a temple.

Fortunately, it was Claudia who first recognized at least some markings of a mentor in Sibylla. Granted, Claudia had to really coach Sibylla at first. Sibylla was more liable to literally beat sense into a person rather than persuade them. Gradually, Sibylla learned to curb her tongue a bit though she was never going to be the typical, mild priestess who quietly dispensed wisdom.

This was made all the more evident by her secretly sipping some mead before she intended to step outside to face the crowds of needy again.

Corking the nondescript bottle and stashing it away in a cupboard, she was on her way to the sanctuary when Bann-Je silently but urgently stalked up to her. She only had a moment to register his presence before the Argonian spoke into her ear.

"We have an assignment. Report to the archon immediately."

Sibylla practically skipped to the archon's office after simply telling those seeking her counsel that they were on their own for the rest of the afternoon.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: Darn, keep forgetting this. What belongs to Bethesda, render unto Bethesda._

* * *

><p><em>Followers of Molag Bal, Mehrunes Dagon and Boethia <em>

_Do not make for good party guests_

_Sanguine followers have a tendency to crash the party_

_Malacath does not party_

* * *

><p>Archon Tacitus had a great many people on staff at his cathedral. That was just the people he had to work with inside the building. There were also messengers, city officials and a whole list of others who were not within the building itself he had to partner with. It was only inevitable that he would start to forget peoples' names. In fact, he was fairly certain that there were a number of others he corresponded with that he had never in fact met in person.<p>

Nonetheless, the archon knew that people were important and had to be valued. Showing some common decency included at least making an effort to get to know people by name. Now, as Claudia's team was assembling in his office, he reflected on how he had not really studied any of them in great detail until now.

Claudia was the first to arrive. She looked like any other Imperial woman from Cyrodil who wore her dirty blonde hair tied back in a bun. Her almond eyes were sharp and piercing. He also noticed that the white of her eyes always had a hint of pink on them, barely noticeable. He wondered if she was allergic to something in the area or was not getting enough sleep. It would certainly make sense on how she was always bustling around making sure everything was in place at the cathedral.

Next to arrive was Do'Ravier. He was the shortest of the group, standing just barely over five feet and a half. His fur was a rather dull orange, nearly matching the mellow brown robes he wore. His fur was also marked with neat rows of black stripes while his faded blue eyes looked more humanoid rather than cat like. While the tip of his tail would sometimes reflect his mood, twitching energetically if agitated or excited, it also seemed to have a mind of its own and would flop around without Do'Ravier being aware of it.

Next was Sibylla, the tallest of the group who let her golden blonde locks fall just above her shoulders. The religious robes did little to hide that she was no stranger to hard work and physical labor. Her green eyes always had a hardness to them, as if daring someone to pick a fight with her. The only blemish she had on her face was a thin but distinct scar that cut a line diagonally across her lips, yet another reminder that she was just as much of a fighter as she was an advisor.

Lastly, right on Sibylla's heals was Bann-Je the Argonian. Bann-Je, had to repeat his stepping through the door ritual three time, walking in, back-peddling out and walking back in again before he was satisfied. His scaly skin was dark green, nearly a dull olive while his eyes were a bright yellow. His snout and brow had small, pointy protrusions like tiny horns though they were neatly lined, going along the boundaries of his snout and above his eye.

Tacitus also felt that he was the quietest of the four.

"So who are we killing?" Sibylla asked bluntly and unannounced.

"I...uh..." Tacitus blanched under the unexpected if earnest question.

"Sibylla!" Claudia scolded.

"Do'Ravier suggests we get back to the matter at hand." the Khajiit interjected.

"Yes, yes. There is a specific reason I asked for you all to come here." Tacitus asserted, recomposing himself.

"It better be about knocking some peoples' heads." Sibylla grumped.

"Sibylla, let the archon talk!" Claudia snapped.

Secretly, Bann-Je was becoming agitated with the perceived meeting starting and then abruptly stopping with all the interruptions.

"Yes, anyway, a pair of our Vigilants of Stendarr were investigating some reports of suspicious activity taking place on the road north to Jehanna." Tacitus started.

"What was this 'suspicious activity?'" Claudia inquired gently.

"Travelers and merchants were reporting strange lights, tormented screams and angry shouts coming from a certain area off into the woods. All of these reports pointed to something going on at night. Our Vigilants, suspecting paranormal activity or the work of a necromancer, went to investigate." Tacitus explained.

"I thinking it went bad from there." Sibylla interrupted.

"Unfortunately, you are correct. Two of our agents went there, and only one returned. He said that it happened so quickly. One moment he saw an encampment of people who appeared to be in the midst of some bloody ritual, I'm quoting them word for word by the way, and then before they knew it they were spotted. The survivor claimed that his partner was shot down and killed." Tacitus reported grimly.

"Where is the survivor now? Maybe they could help us get there." Do'Ravier offered.

"He is still recovering. He barely escaped with his life and he's still not quite in his right mind. You four will be on your own. Any questions?" Tacitus asked.

"No, sir. We will take care of it, Archon." Claudia answered.

"Very well. I leave it to you four then." Tacitus replied, dismissing them.

* * *

><p>An hour later Claudia and her team were well outside the walls of Wayrest and were taking the road north the Jehanna. She felt strange wearing her leather armor for a change. That and also the weight of a quiver full of arrows on her waist as well as her composite bow on her shoulder. For now, it was protected in a special leather case with a sling to be easily carried, the case sealing it from moisture which would so easily denature the bow.<p>

Beside her was Sibylla who was clad in steel armor stylized in the Nordic fashion. Her helmet was closed, shielding the entirety of her face save for her eyes. However, Sibylla greatly prized her weapon, a rare and beautiful glass battle ax. The green metal was well polished and despite it razor sharp edge, it was well used. Sibylla lovingly called her ax "Head Reaper." Claudia found Sibylla's attachment to the weapon a little disturbing.

Do'Ravier had a black traveling robe on but that was more deceptive than anything else. Under the robe, he wore a custom set of full scale armor made from Dwarven metal, an armor set that he claimed was given to him as a gift. The only hint of the protection he hid under the robes were the gauntlets and paw coverings of the dull, golden metal. In place of a staff, he carried what had once been a Dwarven spear. Claudia was uncomfortable with that weapon as well. She swore she could sometimes hear it humming of its own accord.

Lastly was Bann-Je who had a set of four daggers along with a composite of leather and steel armor. While Do'Ravier wanted his enemies to underestimate him, Claudia learned that Bann-Je preferred to remain unseen and unheard. The first time Claudia saw him in action, she felt that Bann-Je was woefully underarmed. She later learned that she was in fact wrong. Bann-Je was a skilled spellsword. The daggers he carried were laced with poison, weapons of a last but terrible resort. Instead, Bann-Je would initially go in camouflaged under an invisibility spell before summoning two bound swords, ethereal weapons that were light as a feather but still as deadly as any other weapon

Now they just needed to find their prey.

"Tell me again why we're not on the road." Bann-Je grumbled.

"Oh for the love of the Emperor, how many times do I have to explain this to you?" Claudia scowled irritably.

"Roads were made for a reason. We should follow them." Bann-Je muttered.

"We all know that's your compulsion talking. It's also why when we go off road, you still tend to keep to the left side of the path, just like a road. Still, no matter how much you complain, we do not follow the roads when we're on a mission." Claudia asserted.

In some places of Tamriel, High Rock included, traffic went on the left side of the roads instead of right. That way mounted knights would have their swords ready to be used to cut down enemies, having drawn their swords with their right hands which would then be in the center of the road.

Regardless, Claudia had a policy of, while loosely following the road on a mission, would still not use them unless circumstances required it. Following the road was too risky. Enemy sentries or agents would be watching them, as well as bandits and highwaymen. Following the path just off the road would put them out of the obvious spot but also gave them a point of reference just so they wouldn't get lost.

It did not make for the easiest traveling and it was anathema to Bann-Je's rigid and almost unpredictable compulsions. Nonetheless, the Argonian begrudgingly followed, the whip of Claudia's leadership the only thing keeping him in place.

"So why are you so obsessive compulsive anyway? Were you born with it or did something happen to you?" Sibylla asked, taking a swig of mead from a bottle she brought along.

"Something happened. I'd rather not talk about it." Bann-Je answered cryptically.

"Is that another compulsion, or would you _really_ rather not talk about it?" Do'Ravier quipped.

"Some things are best left unanswered." Bann-Je asserted, the hint of a warning on his voice.

"Quiet. Focus on the task ahead. Eyes and ears open." Claudia reminded, steering their attention back to the the mission. The Imperial woman rolled her eyes with the thought that she felt she always had to carry the mantel of responsibility.

After awhile, Bann-Je's serpentine tongue was flicking more rapidly than usual, trying to track any wayward scents that would warn him of danger. The others were becoming far more alert as well. They recognized the landmarks that warned they were getting close to their objective. All of them were prepared for an unexpected and violent ambush at any moment.

"Do you hear something?" Sibylla asked all of a sudden, stopping short and bringing the group to a halt.

Do'Ravier's feline ears became erect, swivelling around on his head though they remained hidden under his black hood.

"That is the sound of many people running." Do'Ravier reported.

"Which direction?" Claudia demanded, her sharp eyes scanning the woods.

Do'Ravier's ears rigidly faced forward before suddenly falling flat against his head.

"Straight ahead." the Khajiit replied before bringing his spear to bear.

Claudia wasted no time notching an arrow and drawing the bow halfway, ready for anything that might be coming at them. Sibylla let herself fall into a comfortable fighting stance, her glass battle ax prepared to make wide sweeps into the enemy while Do'Ravier's spear was pointed straight ahead of him.

Bann-Je had inexplicably disappeared but everyone had learned that this was only to be expected.

Then with the noise of boots hitting the ground and leaves rustling underfoot, they spotted the figures of at least ten people, a mix group, coming upon them from the higher ground that slopped down to their position. A quick glanced told them that they were looking at a frightful mob of people, all of them had their weapons drawn and many of them were either marked with splashes of red paint or blood, possibly both.

What was most unnerving was that despite their greater numbers and wicked looking weapons, all of the invaders appeared to have fear etched on their faces.

Claudia violently drew her bow all the way back.

"On the authority of Stendarr, halt and drop your weapons or we will use deadly force!" Claudia shouted at the group.

The armed mob kept coming at them.

"Halt!" Claudia warned.

"Kill them!" one in the mob screamed maniacally.

"Are you just going to stand there, wizard? Do something to even the odds!" Sibylla hissed to Do'Ravier.

Claudia let loose an arrow which immediately impaled one of the berserkers .

Drawing on his telekinetic magics, Do'Ravier gathered the nearby stones and rocks from the ground and sent a cloud of the projectiles into their attackers, senselessly pelting them.

Do'Ravier could only sustain the spell for so long and those that were not stunned or knocked flat on the ground all focused on the Khajiit the moment the stones returned to the earth. They had little respite because while Claudia continued to take well aimed shots with her arrows, Sibylla let out a fearsome battle cry and leaped, diving deep into the midst of them with Head Reaper raised high.

The select few of their attackers that did not get caught in the red cloud of violence and flying, hacked limbs near Sibylla continued their vendetta on Do'Ravier and charged the otherwise defenseless looking Khajiit. One of them found himself flash fried from a lightning bolt spell but that left four more still charging at him.

The first one to reach Do'Ravier was violently knocked to the side from the flat of the spear blade. The next attacker, a towering Orc, sneered at the feline and raised his ferocious warhammer high to crush the mage into a pulp.

Agile, Do'Ravier leveled his spear once again and drove the blade deep into the Orc's exposed chest.

The mob suddenly found their numbers instantly vaporized. Sibylla had hacked and severed a whole group right before their very eyes, her sweeping glass battle ax savagely searching for more to slay. The Khajiit clearly should not have been underestimated and Claudia's archery skills was sniping off those that had initially hesitated to join the fray.

There were only three left and they had no intentions of joining their comrades. Fear burned brightly in their eyes once more and they desperately fought to get away. No sooner did they break to run did they find themselves abruptly knocked to the ground.

Seemingly materializing out of thin air, an Argonian appeared standing before them. Before any of them could resist, the lizard summoned two blades of swirling energy from the ether and pointed them at his prey.

"Resisting would be ill advised." Bann-Je warned.

* * *

><p>The last three survivors were bound and made to wait under Sibylla and Bann-Je's intimidating gaze. All of them were in a sorry state. The armor they wore was poorly maintained, the metal had become corroded and dented. Even their blades had become rusted with ill maintenance. It was a pitiful sight to see, but Claudia was not sympathetic. She approached them, her countenance hard as she gazed at them for a moment before she decided to speak to them. Claudia's question was simple and to the point.<p>

"What were you running from?" Claudia demanded, bending down to hear them better.

"From the shrine." one of them grunted, a sorry looking Dark Elf.

"Who is this shrine to?" Claudia drilled.

"Does it matter? The place is cursed. The daedra has forsaken us." A Redguard woman growled.

Sibylla, Claudia, Bann-Je and Do'Ravier all exchanged a knowing glance, now aware that they had found some daedra worshippers.

"Or punished us." an scrawny Imperial grumbled.

"You two, keep an eye on them. I don't want any of them escaping." Claudia ordered Sibylla and Bann-Je.

"Do'Ravier, you're with me. We're investigating that shrine."

"You'd do best to stay away from there." the captured Redguard said defeatedly.

"And why is that?" Claudia asked, stopping in her tracks.

"Sure, the shrine was originally meant to be a place of death but...not the way we expected it when we awoke today." the Dark Elf admitted.

Claudia glared at them for a moment before continuing her march towards the shrine, motioning for Do'Ravier to follow.

"So what do you think happened?" the Khajiit asked once they were out of earshot.

"You're the educated mage. That's why I'm bringing you along. I intended to ask _you_ that question."

Do'Ravier could not help but give a sly smile as he let his accent become more heavy with the Khajiiti tongue.

"You make a mistake. This one is not so smart, just a very curious Khajiit in a very-"

Do'Ravier's jesting face, and jib, evaporated the moment they caught sight of the shrine area.

Like a demon gazing upon a broken kingdom, the statue and shrine to Boethiah stood starkly contrast to the piles of broken corpses surrounding the shrine. As Do'Ravier and Claudia neared the scene, they were surprised at the savagery that had cut down the cultist. Deep, gaping wounds criss-crossed the bodies. A severed head on a pike still had the hood that seemed standard for Imperial cult clergy. They assumed it belonged to the Vigilant that never made it back.

Still, that did not account for why the rest of the cultist were dead, or why their comrades were running away from the scene like all of Oblivion was after them. Do'Ravier knelt down among some of the bodies to closer inspect the scene of horrific carnage.

"Do you have any idea what happened here?" Claudia asked, mirroring the Khajiit's position.

Do'Ravier did not answer at first, his brows lowered in concentration.

"Or are you giving into your Khajiiti instinct to pilfer pockets?" Claudia jibbed.

"The wounds are deep, as if cut by a blade yet they are festering. The bodies seem to be in a state of decay of many hours, if not a few days." Do'Ravier suggested.

"That's what I thought too, but those cultist claim that they just started running now. Could they have just woken up from a long slumber? What knows what Daedra cultists get themselves into and what bizarre magic can possess them." Claudia speculated.

"It is late in the afternoon. It is unlikely they just woke up from a night's sleep. This one does not truly know." Do'Ravier replied before taking a gauntlet off his paw and placing his hand on the forehead of a nearby corpse.

"They are still warm. They died recently, just as the madmen said." Do'Ravier reported.

"Something very strange happened here." Claudia murmured.

"Nothing natural happened here. I suggest we burn it quickly." the mage offered.

"Very well. I assume you have that under control?" Claudia asked.

Do'Ravier summoned two orbs of flames from his paws while also gazing on a nearby barrel of oil.

"I may not be the strongest pyromancer but these guys aren't going anywhere." Do'Ravier replied.


	4. Chapter 4

_Priests of Stendarr and Zenithar do not get along well on projects_

_The followers of Stendarr fear those of Zenithar give too little_

_The followers of Zenithar accuse those of Stendarr for giving too much_

_Never have too many followers of Julianos in charge, though_

_The acolytes of wisdom will just want to keep researching and then nothing will get done_

* * *

><p>The team returned the last three survivors with them to Wayrest where they were handed over to the Cult's Inquisition team. Due to the mysterious circumstances surrounding the incident, Claudia decided that special attention was going to be required and that the inquisition was more suited to handle getting information out of the daedra worshippers as well as researching the matter. Claudia was required to stay on hand but the rest of her team was allowed to resume their regular duties.<p>

Except Do'Ravier. The other priests and the archon had not forgotten the explosive tendencies of his experiments so for the time being he was only allowed to work on alchemical potions on an order by order basis. The Khajiit was momentarily upset by this but then pulled out another field of interest he had to keep him busy: Dwemer artifacts.

"Sir, if I might ask...w-why are you doing this again?" a skittish acolyte gibbered to Do'Ravier as he very unwillingly aided the Khajiit in his research.

"To see what makes them work!" Do'Ravier spoke with both enthusiasm and a hint of annoyance. He thought that the purpose was quite obvious.

Once again Do'Ravier was in his study room, the initiate was his assistant for the day. The mage had cleared his desk and was instead poking and probing a defunct, if completely reassembled, Dwemer spider with all manner of tools. The acolyte was just there to hand the proper tools Do'Ravier needed, the Khajiit was too engrossed in his work to be bothered with finding the implements on his own.

"But...but sir, w-what if...what if it wakes up?" the acolyte asked nervously.

"Wakes up?" Do'Ravier asked incredulously.

"Y-you know. I heard that these things guard the ruins...and quite viciously too! W-what if you b-bring it back to life?" the acolyte squeaked.

"Ah, you're worried that I'll reactivate it. Not to worry, I've bolted it's legs to the table. The worst that can happen is that it will just get angry and start rattling the table. Or...maybe in rare cases it might start shooting lightning at us." Do'Ravier murmured, recalling some stories he had heard.

The acolyte whimpered in fright.

"But not to worry, that's why I had you fetch that nice, heavy mallet. Just in case." Do'Ravier waved his paw at the large blunt instrument before tinkering with the soul gem within the spider.

"Are you sure this is safe, mister Do'Ravier?" the acolyte whispered.

"Safe? Eh, 'safe' isn't the word I would use." Do'Ravier muttered.

Suddenly, the spider violently rattled and hissed, raging against the restraints that held it in check. Ecstatic, Do'Ravier immediately set to watching how all the moving parts within the spider interacted with each other while trying to determine the nature of how the soul gem acted as a power source.

Do'Ravier was oblivious to the fact that the acolyte had scrambled out of the room, pale with fright and too scared to scream. In fact, Do'Ravier probably never would have found out that the acolyte had left if it had not been for the very panicked Archon Tacitus arriving at the urging of the frightened assistant.

Do'Ravier's happy studies came to a crashing halt as Archon Tactius frantically smashed the Dwarven construct with the emergency mallet.

A few minutes later, a very disappointed Do'Ravier left the temple with a pile of books in his hands, his studies having been further reduced now to mere research. Knowing that his Dwarven spider was sold off to help ease the cathedral's coffers was little consolation to him.

* * *

><p>Elsewhere, Sibylla and Bann-Je were attending to those in the sanctuary seeking advice, consolation and instruction on any number of things. Sibylla was in fact doing most of the instruction, Bann-Je was there mostly to help and to fetch things should they be needed.<p>

A very distraught Imperial mother held a quietly sniffling infant in her arms.

"The healer told us to take this medicine but my baby is still sick." the mother agonized.

Sibylla took a look at the child and then motioned Bann-Je to also assess the situation.

"You work with the healers. What does this look like to you?" Sibylla inquired.

"Hmm, no temperature, little cough, ugh...bit of a runny nose..." Bann-Je muttered to himself as he went through the diagnosing.

"What did the healer say your child had?" Sibylla inquired.

"He said it was a cold." the mother reported, still concerned.

"I'm going to have to agree with this one. Looks like a cold. He should be good in a few more days." Bann-Je nodded optimistically.

"But the medicine isn't working!" the mother protested.

"How long ago did you receive the medication?" Sibylla inquired patiently, wondering if there was some quack alchemist she had to go punch.

"Yesterday." the mother replied, still worried.

"Yesterday?" Sibylla asked, the strain on her patience starting to show.

"Yes, yesterday." the Imperial woman nodded.

Sibylla took in a very deep breath before taking the mother by the arm and started walking her down towards the entrance.

"I'm know you are very concerned with the health of your infant. However, it takes more then a day for the medicine to run it's full course. Be faithful in giving your child the medication and I am sure all will be well. The healers here are always ready in case something happens." Sibylla explained as sweetly as she could. It felt like pulling teeth.

"Are you sure?" the woman asked nervously.

"Positive. Trust me, it took a full week to get a festering wound on my leg healed with medicine _and_ magic." Sibylla nodded.

"Oh. Oh...if I might ask, what was the wound from?" the mother inquired.

"Oh, poisoned sword." Sibylla replied flatly before showing the mother out the door.

"Sheesh." Sibylla grumped as she marched back up the sanctuary. She was intercepted by Bann-Je halfway up.

"I am going to apologize in advance for this, but I am also using this as an opportunity to ask you for permission on something." Bann-Je said quickly.

"What is it, Bann-Je?" Sibylla asked.

"The man over there asked if you were a priestess of Dibella...and was wondering if you could privately counsel him. Somehow, I don't think he's talking about wisdom." Bann-Je muttered quietly.

Sibylla looked over to see a man who appeared to be a merchant, he was smiling a bit too broadly. She did her best to hide a scowl.

Dibella was the Divine of beauty and occasionally, priestess of Dibella provided advice in more...intimate affairs.

"I am asking for your permission to knock some sense into him." Bann-Je finished.

"I can handle this, Bann-Je" Sibylla replied before she plastered the sickliest sweet smile she could on her face.

Marching up to the man, her face still beaming, she demurely took the man by the arm before also marching him down towards the entrance of the temple. Softly, she opened the door and showed him outside.

Her fist connecting to his face catapulted him to the bottom of the cathedral steps.

"Wrong house!" Sibylla shouted at him before slamming the door shut.

"Gods, I wonder what Claudia is doing." Sibylla sighed as she returned to her post.

* * *

><p>Claudia was at the local prison where the Imperial Cult inquisition operated out of. The inquisition was not even a formal branch of the cult to the Eight Divines like the Vigilant of Stendarr were. Inquisitors were simply a select group of cult members who were educated enough and trained with getting information out of people. Maybe this was with good reason. No one wanted to be too closely compared to the Thalmor Justiciars who were professional inquisitors. They were not very well thought of by most people within mainland Tamriel.<p>

Claudia was not very comfortable being surrounded by the iron bars and cold stone of the dimly lit, musty prison. Even if _she_ wasn't in fact being held prisoner, it was hard to forget that when you were constantly inside it. Still, she could not leave. She needed to be on hand with the other interrogators in case they needed to consult her. Also, there was no escaping the fact that she did some interrogating herself.

For now, she was taking a break from the grueling task. Granted, she understood as terrible as she might have felt, the prisoners felt even worse. Torture was not uncommon but she was thankful that the particular group of inquisitors she was working with focused less on actual physical torture and more on persistence, patience and some wheeling and dealing.

Still, she was exhausted. She also felt that they were hitting the point of diminishing marginal returns. Even she was starting to believe their captives had told everything they knew. What little else they may have been hiding was probably not every significant.

Finding a nearby cot padded with hay and furs, Claudia decided she could use a nap. She brushed the area off a bit, hoping to get the worst of the dust away, perhaps even a layer of mold as well. She also hoped there weren't any fleas. Getting it as clean as she thought she was going to, she curled up and quickly fell asleep.

**_Why do you slumber mortal? Why do you sleep?_**

**_Vigilance is a necessity you must keep._**

**_In the darkness of the Oblivion those that would plot evil gather_**

**_To your hands fall the burden of exposing disaster_**

**_Allies you will find in places unexpected_**

**_Know that your faith and skills will be tested_**

**_These words to you I bear, take heed, walk with compassion, go with care_**

Claudia woke with a start, startled to have had such a vivid dream with the words still echoing in her head. She also recalled seeing a face, translucent and surreal just before the dream ended. She was struggling to make sense of the face she saw, much less the words when she was suddenly interrupted.

"Miss Vivinici? Are you awake?" one of the inquisitors asked, staying just beyond the threshold of the door so not to disturb her.

"Yes, yes, I am awake. Did you want something, inquisitor?" Claudia inquired, uncomfortably getting to her feet.

"The other inquisitors and I agree, we're not going to get anything more from the cultists. They truly do not know what happened to the others that you found dead at the shrine. They could have possibly been out of their minds, but as much as we don't want to believe it, they ran at the moment you found them, themselves having just realized the condition of their fellow heretics." the inquisitor reported.

"Very well, I shall remember that for my report. Is there anything else you need me for?" Claudia asked as she placed her coat around herself, preparing to leave.

"Yes, while we don't think they will give any more details, one of them did mention a certain associate who may have helped set the shrine up. All the information is on this scroll. It is something your team should investigate. Consider it your next mission."

The inquisitor handed Claudia a sealed envelope which was not even addressed. Claudia folded it carefully into her pockets before speaking.

"Thank you. Anything else?"

"No, you are free to leave." the inquisitor dismissed.

"What will happen to the prisoners?" Claudia asked carefully.

"They will be held for now, no longer under threat of torture. If they do not recant their ways before the captain of the guard decides, then they will be executed." the inquisitor responded with a shrug.

* * *

><p>The library at Wayrest had enough tomes, scrolls and artifacts to make any curator proud and any scholar happily busy. When the librarians received word that the temple was sending over one of its best scholars to do research and help out, they were more than happy to welcome the temple researcher. They even granted him one of the best study rooms with a grand table to hold a large number of opened books all at once for quick reference and wall to wall blackboards with chalk and erasers.<p>

After seeing Do'Ravier in his research methodology, many of them were starting to have second thoughts.

The Khajiit's padded paws made him quiet enough so noise wasn't an issue. In fact, that was part of the problem. They noticed that the Khajiit could easily hurry from shelf to shelf, book to book with almost the same enthusiastic speed as a child on a festival day. The problem was he was a fully grown Khajiit and the librarians were certainly not used to seeing anything fast or enthusiastic in their hallowed, serene halls of learning.

Some of the more observant librarians also started to notice something odd. First off, he had practically eviscerated the section they had on the Dwemers. There was scarcely a book left on the shelf in that section. Also, while he dutifully put back any book he no longer needed, there did not seem to be any connection between any of the books he was using. It was like he was researching anything on a whim.

A quick glance at his study room, and the filled chalkboards quickly explained what was going on. The Khajiit was in fact researching several different projects at once. No one topic could keep his attention for long before he got bored and moved onto the next board to pick up where he left off. Eventually he would go from topic to topic until he finally made a full circle and the process would repeat itself.

A quick and discrete messenger sent to ask the archon if this Khajiit was completely stable was simply met with the response of "Be glad he has not blown anything up."

They decided for now, the library was going to be safe even if one of its visitors was far more lively than usual.

Do'Ravier stifled a yawn as he glanced over all of his notes again. Other than all the chalk over his paws, he was actually rather proud of the day's work. He would have to spend the next day putting all the confirmed information down onto parchment and ink but nonetheless he was happy. Assured that none would disturb his work, Do'Ravier closed the doors to the room and was about to head out when he bumped into something he recognized.

"Celestie?" Do'Ravier asked.

"Ah, Do'Ravier, what are you doing here? Enjoying the books?" Celestie asked curiously, looking up from the book shelf she was delving in.

"I was just doing some research for the temple, that's all." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"Now if you don't mind my asking, despite your accent you use the word 'I' when referring to yourself. That's a bit different from most of the Khajiits I've met." Celestie brought up.

"Ah, yes. I grew up in Elsweyr and then I went to study in Cyrodill. I quickly learned that if you want any Imperial to take you seriously, you're going to have to learn to adopt their dialect. Still, people tend to think I'm not that well educated and every now and then this one does like to use his old dialect." Do'Ravier grinned.

"That is a shame people underestimate you just because you're a Khajiit and people just think they're mostly just thieves and trouble makers. I think you're quite a gentlemen." Celestie replied, turning her attention back to the shelf.

"Oh?" Do'Ravier asked, quickly if discreetly stamping on his tail to flatten the erratically thumping limb.

"Yes. I'm just here looking for a book, something to keep me company while on the caravan travels." Celestie smiled.

"Ah, well, what would you be interested in?" Do'Ravier asked, eager to help.

"Celestie, there you are!" another voice echoed through the hallways.

Before Do'Ravier could react, another man had walked up to the woman and the two had embraced. Do'Ravier felt his tail angrily twist around his heel when he saw the two kiss.

"Ah, Do'Ravier this is Mark, he's a merchant here in the Wayrest and we've been courting for awhile." Celestie smiled.

"Divines bless you." Do'Ravier said through barely clenched teeth disguised as a smile as he shook Mark's hand.

"I am also one of the nobles from one of the royal houses. Do keep your paws to yourself if you ever come around any of my stores, Khajiit." Mark warned, casting a suspicious eye on the man.

"This one is always an honest customer, sir noble." Do'Ravier bowed, summoning all his strength to squash the temptation to light the man up with the force of a fierce lightning storm.

"I'm sure. Celestie, how did you happen to meet this Khajiit?" Mark asked the woman.

"Oh, well, Do'Ravier here works for the Cathedral to the Eight Divines here at Wayrest." Celestie replied.

"Huh. You are quite well dressed for a servant." Mark murmured.

"Do'Ravier is indeed a servant to the Eight." Do'Ravier said just above a grumble, hiding his clenched paws in his sleeves so not to electrocute the man's brains out.

"Dear, he's a priest." Celestie corrected.

"Oh, well, I did not realize the Imperial Cult was becoming quite desperate." Mark retorted.

"Yes, help is needed everywhere in Tamriel these days. Ahem, please excuse this one, there are duties to be attended to back at the cathedral." Do'Ravier dismissed himself with a bow.

Claudia read the letter under the candle light on her desk. The information within was rather disturbing. They had reason to believe that the cultists had named one of the Wayrest nobles, Bernard Landuc, as one of the associates to the shrine of Boethiah. In fact, he had been a regular attender.

To the Imperial Cult and the Vigil of Stendarr, this was indeed alarming information. Those that trafficked with Boethiah usually did so with unscrupulous political intents, mostly because Boethiah was the Daedric prince that reveled in revolution and violent political upheaval. Landuc, while not the closest to the city throne, was also not that far away from it either. The stakes were too high to simply ignore the information.

Claudia also realized that they were in a bit of a pickle. While the Vigil was respected throughout the Empire, their reach only went ever so far. If they were ever going to successfully handle a noble, they would have to catch the man in the act, no easy task. They also would not be able to simply call him in for questioning. Nobles had a way of hiding behind position and authority.

Stepping out of her room, Claudia decided to silently assess each of her team members. Do'Ravier was not there she already decided to for the mission she had in mind, he was probably not the best choice. People had a tendency to keep an eye on a Khajiit because of their mischievous reputation. Sibylla was also not a good idea either. Sibylla and the word "stealth" did not usually go in the same sentence.

Her eyes fell on Bann-Je who was too engrossed in his over methodical dusting of one of the shrine alters to notice her.

Claudia found it odd, but she was going to have to admit that the obsessive compulsive Argonian was the best candidate for the job she was planning.

They heard the heavy wooden doors of the entrance open and spotted Do'Ravier slowly shuffling inside. Sibylla was the closest to him and the first to make an observation as she swept the floors.

"Geez, you look like something the cat dragged in." Sibylla said.

"Not funny." Do'Ravier grumbled.

Claudia noticed how his tail sadly dragged along on the stone floor.

The Khajiit passed her without a word and padded into his own room, slamming the door behind him. She and Sibylla traded a glance, the Nord woman giving a very perplexed shrug before getting back to her sweeping. Feeling back, Claudia quietly opened Do'Ravier's door just so that she could slip her head in.

"Hey, whatever happened, I'm sorry about that girl." Claudia murmured discreetly before closing the door.


	5. Chapter 5

_Sheogorath was once the Champion of Cyrodill_

_He doesn't talk about those days much_

_He made more sense back then_

_Didn't really hit home until he came upon a shrine to Sheogorath_

_He tried summoning the Daedra upon the shrine_

_Only to be told he was praying to himself_

_And so the madness, having long since begun, finally sunk in_

* * *

><p>After the morning prayers, Bann-Je returned to him room and sunk into a meditative pose. He tried to focus his mind and body as he sat in the lotus position. Late last night, Claudia had informed him of his mission and objective. His duties were cleared by Archon Tacitus this morning. He only had one objective for this day, and that was finding out whether or not Noble Bernard Landuc was guilty or innocent.<p>

Bann-Je, as with everything in life, was very methodical about how he prepared for such a mission as this. Meditation, focus, was required. This was not something he learned form the Imperial Cult. Secretly, it had its origins in something the Cult would have found pagan. Many years ago, after the Oblivion Crisis, the Argonian nation of Black Marsh took over the Dark Elf nation of Morrowind. While Morrowind became part of Black Marsh, that did not mean that the Dark Elves forgot their old practices or that the Argonians did not get involved in their affairs. The Morag Tong was the professional assassins guild in Morrowind, their patron the Daedric Prince Mephala.

His mind focused so that every muscle in his body was attuned to his senses, Bann-Je opened his fierce yellow eyes. Before he hunted in the name of Stendarr, he was an assassin for Mephala. Before his message was that of justice tempered with compassion, his goal was only that of what the Webspinner weaved. Bann-Je was ready to deliver whatever fate would hold for Bernard Landuc.

But not before he passed back and forth through his door three times first.

* * *

><p>Sibylla took her spot at the front of the sanctuary to once again any who came seeking for help. This time, to substitute in Bann-Je's place, was a very antisocial looking Do'Ravier. While it was acceptable to wear their hoods at any given time, Do'Ravier's was lower over his head than usual.<p>

"Don't look so happy there, Do'Ravier." Sibylla jibbed out of the corner of her mouth.

The Khajiit just grunted in response.

Sibylla shifted her jade green eyes back and forth across the sanctuary. Assured that the two of them were in seclusion, the Nord decided to ask her hushed question.

"Is this really all about one girl?" Sibylla asked curiously.

Do'Ravier drew in a sharp breath and then retold the whole story.

"You just let him talk to you like that? How dare he!" Sibylla growled.

"She's courting a cur." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"And you just let him continue? Why didn't you jolt him with a spell or something?" Sibylla demanded.

"My lightning spells, or any of my spells for that matter, are not play things." Do'Ravier protested.

"Still, you should have done something if you really care about that girl." Sibylla asserted.

"Lets be honest here, it's just an infatuation. I cannot honestly say I love that girl yet." Do'Ravier explained.

"Some infatuation I'd say." Sibylla muttered sarcastically.

"Just let it go, nothing worth getting your hair all raised up about. This will all just pass me by and I'll bounce back eventually." Do'Ravier said.

No sooner did Do'Ravier say that did they hear the cathedral door open. Sibylla would have just thought their visitor was just another noble coming to either ask for advice or donate but then she caught a glimpse of Do'Ravier's tail. She recognized the way it was twitching and fidgeting. The tip of his tail only did that just before they launched an attack.

Do'Ravier immediately recognized the man. It was Mark.

"Well...sir, Khajiit, I would like to seek your counsel. Privately." Mark announced, stepping up to them.

* * *

><p>Claudia and Bann-Je walked towards Bernard Landuc's estate in the open Wayrest streets. Claudia still had her priestess robes on but Bann-Je was wearing a completely different get up. His clothes, while not very expensive, still made him rather presentable and were a grade above simple cloth and rags. Landuc's estate was not very wide, it looked like just another large building surrounded by a simple fence to keep the rest of the common people away. Gazing up at the many stories, and methodically counting each window, Bann-Je voiced a question to Claudia.<p>

"Tell me why I am in this getup and what exactly is the plan?" Bann-Je asked.

"You're going solo on this one, Bann-Je." Claudia started.

"I was already under that impression since Sibylla and Do'Ravier are not here." Bann-Je replied.

"Yes. Anyway, I learned that Landuc is in need of yet another servant. I managed to pull a few strings and now you're a butler." Claudia shrugged.

"I think I can handle things from here then." Bann-Je replied, stepping up to the estate fence.

"Divines watch over you...and please, try to suppress your compulsion, thing." Claudia pleaded.

Bann-Je stepped into the threshold of the gate and, suddenly filled with the competing urges to stifle and act on his obsessive compulsiveness, Bann-Je ended up standing in place for three seconds before finally continuing forward.

"Oh please, Divines, help him." Claudia whispered painfully, her palm at her forehead.

* * *

><p>Sibylla did her best not to fidget in her robes while she waited anxiously off to the side. Do'Ravier and that merchant noble, Mark, were still talking. It seemed rather serious and was certainly going on much longer than any simply apology. For the first time. Sibylla actually found herself hoping, praying, for someone to come in, at least to keep her preoccupied till she found out what was going on.<p>

Mark finally turned around and seemed to be walking to the exit.

Divines be praised!

"So, what was that about?" Sibylla asked expectantly.

Do'Ravier did not respond, simply staring cold as death towards the door even though Mark had long since left.

"Well, aren't you going to say something?" Sibylla demanded.

"Priests are charged with keeping the confidence of those who seek their counsel." Do'Ravier growled.

"Confidentiality my shiny Nordic posterior." Sibylla snapped, pulling Do'Ravier's hood back.

"There! Your ears are flat against your head. That's what every cat, and most Khajiits do, when they're angry. What's going on?" Sibylla asserted.

"...He came to ask for forgiveness and counsel...because he is cheating on her." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"_What?_ He came to you because of that?" Sibylla screeched incredulously.

"I always knew some people were not bright...but someone always has to come along and lower the bar." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"Well, you should really do something now." Sibylla said, her eyebrows narrow with indignation.

"What? For all he knows I'm just a humble Khajiit who knows the woman he is cheating on. From that perspective alone I cannot light him up like a torch." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"Why do you have to be some darn logical?" Sibylla snapped.

"People are not very forgiving unless Khajiit do everything very perfectly." Do'Ravier murmured.

"Want me to go punch him?" Sibylla offered.

"No, Sibylla. Just no. But perhaps say a prayer for him. One that does not involve some kind of harsh judgement befalling him." Do'Ravier offered.

"And why not?" Sibylla retorted.

"Because even if I do detest him, I know that compassion and patience are the more righteous and effective answers." Do'Ravier replied.

* * *

><p>Bann-Je found himself immediately plunged into the action no sooner did he introduce himself as the new butler. The attendants at the door barely cast him a second glance, simply pushing him right into the presence of a Wood Elf woman.<p>

"Hello, my name is Eltia and I am Sir Landuc's overseer. I take care of all the upkeep here at his estate. You must be that new butler we're in need of. Your name is?" Eltia asked, though she spoke a mile of a minute.

"Uh, my name is Squints his Eye." Bann-Je replied, pulling out an old alias.

"Oh, good to have you Squints his Eye. I see you are dressed the part, there is no formal uniform for a butler, just mind that you dress sharp. Follow me as I show you around the Estate and explain your duties to you." Eltia instructed, scribbling a few things on her notebook as she did so.

She passed under a door. Bann-Je hesitated a moment before continuing but other than looking like a momentary pause, Bann-Je felt no one would have thought otherwise. He also squashed the urge to polish a nearby stair railing.

"_Keep in the part, keep in the part. You're not Bann-Je, you're Squints his Eye." _Bann-Je scolded himself, quickly meditating again before he felt a change wash over him.

"Just keep your eyes and ears open. Please, the cleaning staff is always in need of help so if the master does not need your services do what you can to help out the cleaners. Still, your highest priority is to the master. Do not keep him waiting." Eltia explained, leading him further up the stairs.

"Yes, Eltia." Bann-Je replied.

They passed another doorway but this time Bann-Je ignored it, no longer feeling his compulsion. Instead, he felt another urge. The urge to hunt.

He needed to shed blood.

"Ah, and here is the man now, Bernard Landuc." Eltia introduced.

Ban-Je found himself gazing at a man who was happily playing with his two children, pushing a ball down the hallway so to get a few moments to himself since he felt his attention was required elsewhere. Before Bann-Je and Eltia could get directly to him, Bann-Je also saw him kiss his wife goodbye before she went off to run her errands.

"Master Landuc, this is Squints his Eye, the new butler. I'm sure you two will get to know each other better as he remains in your employment." Eltia introduced.

Landuc was also the friendly sort, taking the initiative and earnestly shaking Bann-Je's hand.

"Please to meet you, Squints his Eye. Do not be too nervous, I trust you'll find from my other servants that I'm more than fair and honest when dealing with my employees. Besides, I can't much abide all those silly rules and airs of how other nobles treat their staff." Landuc smiled.

"Thank you, sir." Bann-Je replied.

"_Stendarr have mercy, please do not tell me a devoted husband and loving father slipped into Daedra worship."_

* * *

><p>Sibylla and Do'Ravier both passed the time helping whoever else would show up in the sanctuary. Despite the stream of people needing support and advice, Sibylla found a small part of her still annoyed with Do'Ravier. She did understand where the Khajiit was coming from and deep down, she knew it was because the two of them came from opposite sides of the spectrum. Do'Ravier tended to emphasize patience, fostering growth in a person so that they would move on to a better place. Sibylla preferred for immediate correction or punishment. On an intellectual basis, Sibylla could understand the Khajiit. She did not have to agree but she could understand.<p>

That did not change the fact that her emotions still had a mind of their own.

Both of them were startled from the lull in traffic when the sanctuary doors burst open and a group of robed mages strode purposefully into the building. Do'Ravier also spotted a few of the librarians within the group. More importantly, the Wayrest librarians were pointing directly at him.

"Him. That's the Khajiit you're looking for." the librarian announced to the scholars before turning around and leaving.

"Do'Ravier, what did you do?" Sibylla whispered in annoyance out of the corner of her mouth.

"Truth be told, I honestly don't know." Do'Ravier murmured back.

"Don't lie to me." Sibylla hissed.

"No really, I honestly don't know." Do'Ravier defended.

"You're the one who checked out all the Dwemer books in the library, right?" one of the mages inquired.

"Uh, yes, this one was using the books. Do you need to use them? This one does not mind, just place them back in the study room." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"Thanks, but that's not the real reason we're here." another mage explained.

There were three mages. Two of them were Bretons, both men. One had short blonde hair, cut so close to his scalp he might as well had shaved the whole thing off. The other one was in fact bald but he had a thick, brownish red beard. The last mage was a Redguard woman, also with short hair that barely crept past her ears.

"Is there something this one can help you with then?" Do'Ravier asked.

Sibylla wondered why he always reverted to the brutish Khajiiti dialect whenever he was around strangers.

"You're the closest thing this city has to an expert on the Dwemers and we've run into a bit of a bind at a nearby ruin. Perhaps you could help?" the mage with the red beard explained.

And for the first time since yesterday, Do'Ravier smiled.

"Let Do'Ravier get clearance from the archon and then this one will come to help." Do'Ravier replied.

Archon Tacitus was more than happy to send him off.

* * *

><p>Bann-Je had been working for several hours with the cleaning staff when he was led to the upper corridors. The maid he was following was busy making sure the curtains were all clean and up to par. It had become his job to make sure that her supplies were well in order. He was not too worried about Landuc calling him as it was made clear that Landuc would be in the middle of several important business meetings, the nature of which had to remain private.<p>

Bann-Je was okay with that.

The maid sent him off with a bunch of spent, dirty rags that he was suppose to dispose of and return with clean sheets to use. Realizing they were working on the top floor, and therefore the area where Bernard Landuc's private room was, Bann-Je realized this was his chance. Stealing away from any prying eyes, Bann-Je crept right up to the door.

If there was one place to hide a private shrine in a place like this, it had to be in the man's own room. The servants said the man never set foot into the basement and, having seen the underground space himself, Bann-Je knew that no foul altar was down there. All their food stores were down in the basement, hardly a place to have a Daedric shrine.

Unless Bann-Je found any evidence here, then he would have to write off Landuc's residence as cleared. For the sake of the man's family, he prayed he would not find anything.

"_No, focus again. Squints his Eye, not Bann-Je. Bann-Je is not here." _

Bann-Je gently caressed the locking mechanism on Landuc's door. Bann-Je knew nothing of picking locks but he did not need to. There were several arcane magics, some of which most mages did not bother with, much less knew. However, the assassins of the Morag Tong dabbled in such magics.

Guards could take lockpicks away from you and such instruments had a tendency to draw unwanted attention. Magic sometimes went under the radar.

His palm placed firmly against the lock, Bann-Je gently projected special magical forces into the mechanism until finally he was rewarded with the feeling of the lock sliding gently aside. It was if he had slid the proper key inside even though he had no such thing. Glancing to see if anyone was nearby and finding himself alone, Bann-Je uncharacteristically slipped inside the room and closed it behind him.

The room was kept and everything was in order. There was a large canopy bed but nothing grabbed his attention. There were a few shelves but they were clearly set away from the wall so those were not false passages. There was the desk but that appeared innocent enough. Then there were three wardrobes and then the vases and-

Wait a minute.

Three wardrobes?

Bann-Je went straight for the center one. One wardrobe could be for him, the other for his wife but this center one was a bit taller and wider than the others. Once he was finally up to it he noticed that it was also deeper.

Swinging it open, Bann-Je found a man sized statue to the Daedra Boethiah.

"I see you you want to cut your employment short, Mr. Squints his Eyes." Landuc said behind him.

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier learned that the blonde mage with the short haircut was Louis, red beard's name was Geoffrey and the Redguard's was Sylva. The three of them led him to a Dwemer site that was just recently approved for excavation. He found himself staring at what had once been a large Dwemer tower. The problem was that most everything except the grand door was buried under the ground. Even the tower that climbed higher was underneath the hill it was built into. For all the world it looked like there was a massive golden door in a mountain side.<p>

"Simply put, we can't get in." Louis shrugged.

"We thought maybe you could read it or knew a trick or something." Geoffrey explained.

Surveying the door, Do'Ravier gave it an experimental push but it was stuck fast. Drawing from what he knew of Dwemer ruins, he could think of only one conclusion.

"It's barred from the inside." Do'Ravier said, tapping his Dwarven spear on the golden door.

"But how could you unlock it? Is there a keyhole we could try to pick? Anything to save us months of digging?" Sylva inquired.

"This one knows that this is the grand entrance. Even we do not put keyholes in our city's main gate. However...Do'Ravier had seen from old Dwemer sites that they liked to put lookouts over their gates. This one finds that rise overhead very appealing." Do'Ravier pointed above them, revealing a mound that rose out from the rest of the climbing hill.

* * *

><p>Claudia found herself with some spare time so, instead of trying to see if there was extra work to be done at the cathedral, she made her way to the Wayrest library. Stepping inside, she immediately went up to the front desk where most of the librarians were ready to assist people. The nearest librarian gazed into her sharp almond eyes that perpetually held a slight, pink tint to them.<p>

"How may I help you?" the wizened old Breton librarian asked.

"Do you have any books on the various gods and religions here in Tamriel?" Claudia asked politely.

"Ah, you will find them at that far section over there. However, if you wanted any information on Daedra, I am afraid you'll have to go look in a different library. One of the Temple researchers is using all of them right now. He's a peculiar Khajiit that one. the elderly librarian warned.

"I work with him. Is he keeping them in his study room? I'll make sure not to disturb them." Claudia explained honestly.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt but do not disturb them. Divines have mercy on us if that Khajiit were to get upset. He just seems so strange to me." the librarian wheezed.

Claudia made her way up the ascending staircase to the second floor where the large windows let in the brilliant light of the noon day sun. The studying room was not hard to miss as it jutted deeply from the walls and was sealed with two large wooden doors. Claudia snickered to herself as she opened the doors. It was as she imagined what Do'Ravier's study place would look like. As she suspected, the place, though organized and neat, looked like a whole team of mages and scholars had a study session instead of just a single energetic Khajiit. The chalkboards were filled completely with notes and scrawls and even thenwalls not enough because she could see scrap paper where Do'Ravier had made further notes.

Still, she was more interested in the books.

She had to leaf through some of the books first, making sure each time that she returned back to the original page she found it in. She initially had some difficulty because many of the books Do'Ravier had pulled out were in fact on Dwemers, if not Dwemer in origin.

"Finally!" Claudia exclaimed, finding a book that was talking about Daedra.

Truth be told she was not quite sure what she was looking for. Originally, she came to the library telling herself that she would research the mysterious destructive force that killed most of the cultist and whether there was any documentation of Daedra doing that. However, the more she thought about it she could not shake the feeling that she was in fact researching about that dream she had. Something, she wasn't sure what, but something was telling her it was a Daedra.

Slipping a scrap paper between the pages to hold Do'Ravier's place, she pushed it so that she was back at the first page. Her blood ran cold upon casting her eyes on the first entry. The face she saw in her dream was printed on the page as an illustration.

The entry read **Azura**

* * *

><p>"I know for a fact that you are unarmed. The guards always make sure of that whenever someone passes through the doors of my house." Landuc said sinisterly, stalking towards Bann-Je.<p>

"You are not mistaken." Bann-Je admitted, backing away from Landuc and closer towards the shrine.

"And it was a mistake for you to come here and to see that." Landuc warned, motioning towards the statue of Boethiah.

"It was a graver mistake for you to begin worshipping such a thing. Do you renounce it?" Bann-Je asked.

"Who are you to threaten me in my own house without even a day under my employment? I could just fire you but I fear you have seen too much." Landuc replied darkly, drawing out his sword.

Bann-Je was immediately on his guard, every muscle screaming to react but his discipline and focus kept him on track. At first, he was tempted to conjure his bound blades but then he noticed something.

Despite the personality differences between Bann-Je and Squints his Eye, both of them shared an obsession with methodology and perfection. Both saw the flaws in Landuc's posture and were able to catch exactly how he would attack.

Landuc lunged forward, arm outstretched to plunge the deadly blade deep inside Bann-Je. Instead, the Argonians fluidly stepped to the side and placed both hands on Landuc's wrist and arm. With a quick twist, the Argonian drew a pained grunt from the nobleman.

He had also disarmed the man and was now armed with Landuc's sword.

Landuc did not even have the chance to voice his astonishment when Bann-Je swung the blade around and angled it before driving it inside Landuc's midsection. As the blade plunged deeper, the assassin took the man's own hands and placed it around the handle of the blade. Bann-Je finished by knocking the hilt downwards, making sure that the blade would cause further internal injury and insuring that the wound would be fatal.

"The justice of Akatosh and Stendarr has found you. Know this one last mercy before your judgement." Bann-Je judged before delivering a deft blow to Landuc's head to stun him.

The noble exhaled his last just as Bann-Je silently and invisibly slipped out the door.

A maid found the dead body of Landuc in his room about an hour later as Bann-Je was waiting in the living room for any further orders. All the servants and staff were shocked and upset. Why had Bernard Landuc taken his own life? No one else had been in the room and the noble's own hands were clearly around the sword that had gored him. Even the angle was just right, further suggesting that Landuc had committed suicide. Was it some form of ritual suicide? After all, they found his corpse in front of some dreadful idol.

Bann-Je did not bother himself with such matters. He politely apologized to Eltia and told her she need not worry about paying him his wages. He would find employment elsewhere. That was the last anyone saw of the Argonian butler.

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier's hunch was a correct one. It took only a few of the workers an hour or two to clear off the rubble. Before they knew it, they had found what had once been the guards' watch post that overlooked the main entrance. Louis, Sylva and Geoffrey were eager to find the release hatch so they could open the main gate.<p>

"Do you see anything?" Louis asked, peering into the pitch dark corridor that disappeared deeper into the ruins.

"Maybe you can see something. Khajiits have good night vision." Sylva smiled, nudging Do'Ravier.

"The light does not go very far but this one believes there is the lever right down there." Do'Ravier replied.

"Well then, let's go down there and-"

The corridor suddenly went dark and their world filled with noise while the ground pushed them up. For a few brief moments it was if every corner of their being shunned their very existence, repelling them from all directions while the world sought to drown out their screams. When it was over, Do'Ravier was very certain that despite his wide open eyes it was very dark and the only reason he knew he was not dead, other than the fact that he was breathing heavily, was that he could feel his frantic heart pounding in his head.

"Oh gods, what happened?" Sylva's voice chimed further away from him.

"Are...is this Oblivion?" Louis' voice said from another direction.

"This one is going to take a stab at this, but this one believes there was a cave in." Do'Ravier replied.


	6. Chapter 6

_One mage from the school of Restoration_

_Wrote a book on his ponderings_

_Of how little they knew between inter-species breeding_

_Could the Dunmer or Dark Elves_

_Produce a blue skinned Argonian?_

_But perhaps, if such things happen, they are rare_

_For what are we to call the child_

_of a Dark Elf and an Ork?_

_What madness would there be if there were Dorks?_

* * *

><p>Claudia returned back to the cathedral later that night. Things were winding down and visitors had long since tapered off from coming to the place of worship. Nonetheless, the stillness did nothing to calm her mind about what she had just learned. She had received a vision from the Daedra Azura. She did consider the possibility that maybe a Divine had sent the vision and Azura had something to do with the message. Nonetheless, this did not simplify matters. There was no getting around it. She saw Azura's face in the dreams, absolutely certain it was her voice. She did not know how she was certain, but she could not be persuaded otherwise. While the Vigilant of Stendarr tended to focus on the more malevolent of Daedra, Azura not being one of them, the technical rule on the books banned the worship of <em>Daedra<em>. Come to think of it, Claudia did not recall the last time she heard about a raid on an Azura cult.

That did make sense. Worshippers of Mehrunes Dagon, Molag Bal, Boethiah, Mephala, even Sheogorath just seemed more dangerous than Daedra like Azura or Meridia. Claudia was even willing to wager that no one bothered to report Azura cultists because, not only was Azura deemed benevolent for a Daedra, but also because Azura cults tended to keep to themselves.

Still that did not make her feel better.

She decided another night's sleep would probably help.

* * *

><p>They were in a predicament, there was no doubt about that.<p>

Do'Ravier coughed a few times, feeling dust in his throat before trying to find his bearings. It was rather hard to do in complete darkness. He was at least relieved to know he was still clutching his spear firmly in his hand. Finally coming to his feet, he wanted to set his full attention to getting some light so he could see. Khajiiti eyes only amplified existing light in dark places. Complete darkness meant he was just as blind as anyone else.

"Does anyone know a light spell?" Do'Ravier coughed.

"Yes, give me a moment." Sylva replied before Do'Ravier saw an orb of light appear off to the side. The Redguard mage was holding the ball of illumination like it was cupped in her hands.

"Ouch, I hurt everywhere." Louis groaned.

"We have a big problem." Do'Ravier muttered forlornly.

From what could see from the light the cave in was not a minor one. They were at least ten feet into the corridor and the dirt was only two feet behind them. He could also see large rocks in the way. He also wondered if any of those solid stone tiles he saw coming in remained mostly intact when the tunnel collapsed. If so, that meant there would be more obstacles in the way of any rescue team trying to dig them out from that way.

"Where's Geoffrey?" Sylva asked, looking around in alarm.

"He was right behind me." Louis replied.

Do'Ravier cast his eyes sadly on the pile of dirt that blocked their path and was directly behind Louis.

"Oh...oh gods, no! Geoffrey, are you in there?" Sylva cried, starting to tear the dirt away with her hands. They were immediately plunged into darkness when she lost concentration of the light spell.

Realizing the problem, the woman once again fired up the orb of light, this time revealing tears falling from her eyes.

"This one is sorry...there is nothing we can do." Do'Ravier sighed.

"So what are we going to do?" Louis asked when he finally got out of his shock.

"We came here to open the front door. Now we _better_ get it open." Do'Ravier said, walking deeper into the corridor.

"Sylva, you must at least follow this one. Do'Ravier cannot see in the pitch dark without your light spell." Do'Ravier grumbled a few moments later.

* * *

><p>Claudia finished the morning prayers and ventured to the dining hall to catch breakfast. Barely visible, the woman had a slight tremble with her movements. She was nervous and very unsettled. She had hoped a night's rest would help her forget the dream she had yesterday, the one that made her believe she was being contacted by the Daedra Azura. It had not.<p>

She had another dream last night.

Chewing on the bread and butter that was before her, she sought some way to distract herself from the vision last night. Sibylla was already there and was sipping some warm tea from a mug. The two nodded upon making eye contact, both finding it too early to engage in any conversation.

Both looked up upon seeing Bann-Je for the first time since his mission. They had heard it was a success but they were still too tired to ask for any details. They also remembered that Bann-Je was not exactly the best conversationalist.

The Argonian tiredly slipped past the doorway, rubbing the front of his head in his exhaustion. He had made it several feet into the room when his compulsion reminded him of his little ritual. Groaning, Bann-Je turned around, passed under the doorway three times again before turning around to find a spot on the table.

The transition from Bann-Je to Squints his Eye to Bann-Je again was never an easy one.

"Hey, has anyone seen what happened to our Khajiiti friend?" Sibylla asked curiously.

"Did he go somewhere?" Claudia inquired, glad to be distracted.

"Yes, he got dragged off to an Dwemer excavation yesterday. I did not assume it would take long." Sibylla shrugged.

"I did not see him this morning." Bann-Je groaned, half asleep.

"Do you think we should go check up on him then?" Claudia asked, jumping at the opportunity to keep herself preoccupied.

"Sure, if you think it's worthwhile. Considering how much he loves those old ruins, he's probably having the time of his life." Sibylla snickered.

* * *

><p>"This one would like to think there have been worse situations he has been in before. Alas, Do'Ravier can't seem to remember at the moment." Do'Ravier grumbled, still hiding behind the coarse Khajiiti dialect.<p>

"I can't believe we just left him there." Sylva murmured absent mindedly, keeping next to Louis as both followed behind the Khajiit.

"We all studied in the same class." Louis added.

"Excuse this one. Do'Ravier knows that you are both very saddened by the loss of your friend. However, if we do not focus on surviving, then we may very soon share your friend's fate." Do'Ravier warned.

The Khajiit hated being callous but it was a mindset that had been beaten into him on numerous missions. You'd be surprise on what you can block out with enough practice.

Eventually, they were able to delve deep enough into the ruins where they noticed that the Dwemer's ancient lighting system was still running. It was anyone's guess if the lighting was accomplished through magic, technology or a combination of both. All that mattered was that the fixtures on the walls allowed Sylva to take a much needed break from casting the glowing orb of light.

"You know, if it wasn't for the fact that we're trapped in here, this would be absolutely exciting. We're probably one of the few people to venture into this ruin since the mountain buried it. Sure, people may have come before us and disturbed it but imagine how much more that could have been overlooked?" Louis said, taking in all the writings and designs on the walls and floor.

"We'll have to dedicated the site to Geoffrey." Sylva murmured sadly.

"Focus, we need to get out of here first." Do'Ravier reminded, nervously surveying the scenes before him.

They found themselves in the vast, spacious halls that characterised the main living areas of Dwemer cities. The colors and designs were faded but still told of the brutal beauty they once held. The casted statues of Dwemers glared down upon, stares as cold as the metal they were made out of.

"Look, some of the machinery still runs." Louis observed, pointing out the large engines that still wheezed despite the untold ages, steam venting from their proper places.

"I wonder what that was once meant for." Sylva voiced.

They had barely made another step forward when two metallic bangs disturbed the peace. The trio scarcely had time to react when a pair of large golden spheres, metallic in construction, began barrelling on their location.

"Akatosh save us, do you two know destructive spells?" Do'Ravier demanded in a panic.

"Not really, why? What's wrong?" Sylva asked in rising concern.

"Stay behind this one and stay out of the way!" Do'Ravier shouted, raising his spear.

The two spheres unfolded to reveal they were in fact Dwemer guardians, ancient robotic constructs that still dutifully carried out their task to defend the ruin. The eras that had passed meant little to the robots. Their blades were still razor sharp and they intended to use them.

There were screams as the guardians' blades connected to Do'Ravier's spear.

* * *

><p>"Do'Ravier still has not returned from that dig site?" Tacitus asked in surprise.<p>

Sibylla, Claudia and Bann-Je were inside the archon's office. Despite the dream still weighing heavily on Claudia's mind, the exhaustion making the normally faded pink of her eyes deeper, Claudia could tell that Archon Tacitus was also distracted with something.

"Yes. You'd think he'd be back by now." Sibylla shrugged.

"I don't know much about it. I was busy with a mission yesterday." Bann-Je replied before yawning.

"While I am a little concerned, the mages assured me it would only be a day's work, we have another problem. The noble Bernard Landuc committed suicide yesterday and the family is apparently very distressed. The funeral will be held this evening. I need all of you to be around to help because of such short notice." Tacitus explained.

"I see..." Claudia murmured nervously, taking a quick glance at Bann-Je.

"I must respectfully request that I play a minimal role at the funeral." Bann-Je announced uncomfortably.

"...Did your mission yesterday have something to do with this?" Tacitus asked in a hush tone.

Bann-Je only nodded, not even saying a word.

"By the Divines, tell me that this outcome was not a mistake." Tacitus hissed.

"Quite to the contrary. It was a confirmation...and a success." Bann-Je sighed.

"Very well, so long as it was not a blunder...Stendarr have mercy, what madness do people plunge themselves into?" Tacitus murmured to himself.

Sibylla, Bann-Je and Claudia still stood uncomfortably, Claudia finding her toes very interesting while Sibylla refused to make eye contact with anyone.

"Very well, Bann-Je. You will help set up but the moment anyone from the Landuc Estate starts to arrive, you may confine yourself to your quarters. The rest of you, off to your duties. I'm sure our Khajiit friend is having the time of his life in those ruins." Tacitus dismissed.

"That's exactly what I said." Sibylla nodded.

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier was very certain he was fighting for his life. Without any support.<p>

Repeated blows from the guardians' blades were parried by his spear while Do'Ravier used his weapon as a conduit to shower both enemies with bolts of lightning. The destructive energies were taking their toll but Do'Ravier feared that every second the battle went on further decreased his chances of surviving.

Dodging and blocking were his most predominant responses but every now and then, when he had a safe chance, he would jab with the spearhead, hoping to pierce something vital. So far, it had not worked.

"Careful, careful!" Sylva shouted, far away from the battle so not to get caught in the crossfire.

Do'Ravier sincerely wished she'd shut up. He did not feel it was helping.

"You guys must know SOME spell!" Do'Ravier hollered, weaving away and blocking two swipes from the guardians' blades.

"Will a healing spell help?" Louis offered.

"This one would really hope that you would use it before the very likely event this one gets killed." Do'Ravier snapped.

"Um...uh, here!" Sylva squeaked, trying to cast a frost spell.

Instead, she casted a rather weak freezing spell. This landed the end result of casting, quite literally, a snowball at one of the guardians. The cold white exploded in spectacular fashion over one of the metallic heads of the robots but otherwise did nothing.

"...Thanks..." Do'Ravier groaned.

The Khajiit found a break and rammed his spear into the head of the one of the constructs. However, this time he channeled his lightning spell through the spear and deep into the machinery.

In a shower of sparks, the one guardian moaned before falling still.

Do'Ravier barely had time to parry the blow that the second sent at him.

"I tried to help!" Sylva called, feeling helpless.

The Khajiit savagely swung the bottom of his spear, knocking the guardian's blade away, buying him just enough time to swing the spear around and drive its blade into the construct. Do'Ravier repeated his use of the lightning spell and once again, both constructs remained in silence.

Do'Ravier crouched on the floor doubled over, desperately trying to still his galloping heart.

"Are you all right?" Sylva asked, placing a hand on his back.

"How...how do you...not know...destruction spells?" Do'Ravier panted.

"We're scholars, not battlemages. We know how destruction spells work, in theory. That's a far cry from actual practice." Sylva explained.

Do'Ravier got back to panting and wheezing.

"This place, it's cursed!" Louis shouted, his voice filled with panic.

"Louis, please, calm down. We'll get through this." Sylva replied.

"We have to get out of here!" Louis raved, hurrying towards the end of the hall where there was a descending set of stairs.

Looking up, the Khajiit noticed a stone on the tiles that appeared different from the others just at the edge of the stairwell. The hairs on his neck stood on end.

"No, don't!" Do'Ravier warned.

Do'Ravier could not describe the sound of what happened next, he just remembered wincing and clenching his eyes shut before feeling something wet sprayed on his face.

* * *

><p>The Cathedral to the Eight was a flurry of activity as all the monks, priests and staff members hurried to get things in order. Details were arriving on an constant basis and more than once several things had to be changed again and again. It was enough to drive anyone nuts.<p>

Despite the chaos, no matter how much she tried, Claudia could not get the vision out of her head. Her memory refused to let her shake it as off as the words continued to ring through her mind.

_Do not tarry, remain vigilant_

_Do not hesitate, your faith requires resilience_

_One chapter ends, another begins_

_Your task yet still remains_

_The calamity you saw shall yet happen again_

_Follow the path set before you and your men_

_My name is indeed Azura, I shall be your light_

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier slowly opened his eyes to find a spinning blade that had rose out of its hiding place at the stairwell. He was also very much aware that there was plenty of blood cast all over the room. That also included on his face.<p>

Louis had been cut into three pieces.

Sylva meanwhile had buried her face into Do'Ravier's robes, shivering and whimpering in horror.

"Keep your back turned." Do'Ravier instructed the Redguard woman as he gently detached himself from her to go tend to Louis' body.

Respectfully, he took each piece of the body and placed it off to the side so it would not be out in the open. That also gave him time to examine how to disarm the revolving blades that barred their path down the staircase. The Khajiit earnestly hoped he could find a way. The expedition had thus far been a catastrophic disaster.

Glancing towards the base of the stairs, he noticed a lever jutting from one of the walls. Smiling for what felt like the first time in ages, Do'Ravier used his telekinetic magic to levitate his spear and slowly drift it down towards the lever. Angling across the lever, Do'Ravier pushed the spear down until the lever was pressed down with the spear.

The blades came to a dead halt and returned back to the floor.

Hearing the silence, Sylva rushed up to meet him, wiping the last of the water from her eyes.

"Watch your paws. And stay behind this one." Do'Ravier instructed.

* * *

><p>Warriors and hired swords had the easy jobs. Someone gives them an assignment, they either complete it or get killed in the process, and should they survive they collect their pay. After that, they are free to move on. There is no follow up, no reason to ever go back on what happened. They are free up to move on with their next task which usually is nowhere near their first mission.<p>

Vigilants of Stendarr, living almost a double life as priest and inquisitor, had a harder job.

Claudia thought on this as the funeral carried on. Among those who had known Bernard Landuc, there was not a single dry eye among them. It was times like these that Claudia wished such things did not have to be this way. Unfortunately, it was exactly the work of secret Daedric cultist posing as normal men and women that caused the Oblivion crisis 200 years ago.

Who knew exactly what Landuc was plotting? He certainly didn't give Bann-Je a chance to talk him out of it. Whether Bann-Je planned it that way, or if it was simply his style or just a convenient chance, Claudia was grateful for the way the Argonian executed the assassination. Who knew what kind of scandal and upheaval would have been caused if it was found out that the Vigilant of Stendarr had assassinated a noble, or that the nobility was not above cavorting with Daedra?

What would the public think?

Oh how deep deception ran in Man, Mer and Beast.

Nothing unusual happened during the funeral. Archon Tacitus said the usual oration to be given for such an event and then spoke the blessing of Arkay before the body was to led out and committed to the earth. Everything proceeded as planned. The mourners left in orderly fashion while the monks and priests lined the hallways, their hands clasped forward as if in prayer while their hoods were pulled down to represent their sorrow. Claudia was among their number, watching all who passed them.

She felt bad for the family. She really did.

Still, perhaps it was better that things were done this way.

* * *

><p>There was no way to know how much time had passed creeping and carefully treading through those dim halls in the Dwemer ruin. Things become eschewed when one is fearful that every moment they are experiencing could in fact be their last. Sylva would light up the area if Do'Ravier found things too dark and she could carefully clutch the back of his cloak when things were too dim for her to see but his night vision was able to pierce the darkness.<p>

"You're more than just a scholar and priest, aren't you?" Sylva blurted nervously.

"This one does not know what you are talking about." Do'Ravier muttered, distracted with making sure they were not about to walk onto a booby-trap.

"Your command over destruction spells are probably better than half of the battlemages I've seen. You just fought off two opponents by yourself with your Dwarven spear, which also showed that you are trained in fighting with a spear. Also, your accent keeps fluctuating. Sometimes it's heavy, sometimes it's not. I almost bet you're faking that too." Sylva accused.

"And while we're being honest, I think you're just talking because you're stressed out." Do'Ravier grumbled, dropping the coarse dialect.

"Well, can you blame me?" Sylva snapped, hands on her hips.

"Probably not, but I prefer going about this in silence. It would help me focus." Do'Ravier replied, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"But really, what exactly are you?" Sylva inquired.

"This one is just a Khajiit." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"Right, and I'm just a Redguard and the Emperor on the Cyrodil throne is just an Imperial. Okay, so are you really a priest?" Sylva asked.

"I think that's the exit." Do'Ravier suddenly said.

"Oh thank Akatosh, Arkay and all the rest of the Divines!" Sylva cried, now walking alongside Do'Ravier, fighting the urge to rush forward.

"Amen." Do'Ravier sighed in relief, feeling a massive weight come off his shoulders.

There in front of them were the two massive golden doors that was the entrance into the ruins. Apparently, it needed two levers pressed in order to be opened as they already activated the first set up in the guard post when they first entered. They could see the second lever just by the entrance. Do'Ravier could not wait to see the light of day again.

His heart sank when he felt his foot paw slide down into the floor, activating a trap.

"Watch out!" Do'Ravier shouted, jumping back and pulling Sylva with him.

The walls had sprouted several rows of spears to impale the unwary. They quickly slid back in place. Do'Ravier meanwhile was panting hard. In his rush, he had forcefully fell back, and now his whole back was hurting from the fall to the hard surface while the woman was a twitching weight on top of him.

Sylva was starting to whimper.

The Khajiit's last minute response might have saved both of their lives but three of the blades had cut deep wounds across the woman's face. The Khajiit put his hand over his mouth, taken aback at what had just happened but then started to repair the damage.

"The wounds are too deep and wide to disappear completely, but they are just flesh wounds. The scars will be permanent. I am sorry." Do'Ravier whispered, healing energies running between his fingers as he repaired the skin tissue.

Do'Ravier found it an extremely disappointing end to a very ill fated adventure.

The Khajiit was practically dragging himself by the time he was back in Wayrest. He was exhausted, wondered if he missed a night's worth of sleep, he hurt in several places and he still had some dry blood on his fur. He was also fairly certain he was starting to smell. The fact that it was raining also did not help that. The only thing sorrier than a wet Khajiit was a wet Khajiit that was in need of a bath.

Still hobbling along with the help of his spear, Do'Ravier was nearly upon the steps of the cathedral when the doors opened and a woman exited the building. She tried to hide herself, keeping her head down. Her body language suggested that she was sad. Those in distress leaving a place of worship is not all that unusual. Often, for some people the first place to go for consolation was a place of worship.

The problem was that Do'Ravier recognized this woman.

"Celestie? Is something wrong?" Do'Ravier croaked, realizing that his throat was parched and he badly wanted a drink of water.

The woman looked up at him and hesitated a moment. Suddenly, she lunged at him and held tight, starting to sob. Do'Ravier sighed, trying not to sound impatient. He was starting to get really sick of this situation, it was becoming way too familiar today.

"He...he was seeing others." Celestie whispered.

Do'Ravier decided it was indeed a crappy day.


	7. Chapter 7

_Don't fight Orcs, they hate to lose_

_Don't fight Wood Elves, they cheat_

_Don't fight Imperials, they'll never forget it_

_Don't fight Khajiit, they scratch_

_Don't fight Nords, they love to fight. More than you ever will_

* * *

><p>The next morning Claudia saw that Do'Ravier had indeed returned as she saw his feline form in the line for prayer. Bann-Je was definitely back to his neurotic self. Sibylla was in her usual grouchy mood that early in the morning so there was nothing different about that.<p>

What was different was when, after the prayers, Do'Ravier tiredly dragged himself off to the kitchens to grab breakfast. He was usually shuffling off, happy to take on a new day and to get into accidents.

Carefully making her way to the kitchen herself, Claudia found the Khajiit resting his forehead on his fist, his eyes closed in exhaustion while his ears hung halfway, refusing to stand on his head. There was a steaming mug of what appeared to be a very strong brewed cup of tea but he was not drinking from it.

"What happened to you?" Claudia asked in shock.

Do'Ravier only groaned, not even changing his posture.

"Had too much fun studying the ruins?" Claudia jibbed, buttering a slice of bread to eat.

Do'Ravier did not respond.

"Not only am I taking that as a 'no' but I have a feeling there's more to this story." Claudia said cautiously.

His eyes still closed, the Khajiit took a sip from his tea and very groggily told his story.

"So let me get this straight..." Claudia started.

Do'Ravier simply laid his head on the table though an ear half raised showed he was paying attention.

"All the mages that went with you either were killed or seriously wounded. Meanwhile this girl you're sweet on sobbed to you how her past lover was unfaithful to her and so now she's packing it off to Skyrim and probably will not be coming back." Claudia recited.

Do'Ravier grunted as he hid his head under his arms as if trying to block out the light. Or the world.

"I'm...I"m really sorry about that." Claudia apologized.

"And the bath water was cold." Do'Ravier grumbled miserably.

* * *

><p>Behind the Cathedral to the Eight, there was a walled off section that contained a courtyard as well as a cemetery and a few catacombs. Naturally, while the walled courtyard was generally a peaceful place, the rows upon rows of headstones only served as repeated reminders of the last destination that all go to. Some time ago, the cathedral staff decided it was only natural then to erect a statue of Arkay in the center of the courtyard, Arkay being the Divine of life and death.<p>

Sibylla found it as the only safe place she could practice sparring with her great ax Head Reaper.

While a level of strength was required to properly and effectively wield any large weapon, strength was not everything. Coordination, speed and even stamina were also very important. The fact that she could comfortably swing and control such a massive blade proved she had strength but it was clear that she could move it with speed as well. Finally, there was the important detail that she could continue swinging the blade long after most others would have tired.

Such mastery over the battleax required many years of training and experience. Sibylla was no fool. She knew that she constantly had to be handling and training with the blade if she expected to maintain her skill, much less strength to handle it. Bringing the blade down before doubling up and carving a deadly arc sideways, Sibylla snickered at the thought of some people thinking women were weak.

She was sure she could fix that misconception quick enough.

She could feel that familiar burn in her muscles. Sweat was starting to gather at her forehead. She had learned to enjoy those things since they reminded her that she was still alive and that she was doing everything she could to invest in making sure she stayed that way. The most foolish mistake any warrior could make was falling out of practice.

The ax sung its grim notes as she parted the air with it until she finally had to allow herself to take a breather. Standing the ax next to her, she took a few breaths, wiping the sweat off her brow. She could also see that her robes were starting to get soaked through. She let out a quick laugh, imagining what a common parishioner might have thought if they stumbled upon her, the sight of a priestess wielding a massive ax.

"Sister, sister please, come quickly!" she heard a voice call.

Looking over at the doorway, Sibylla saw one of the younger acolytes, a young Breton woman, calling for her assistance.

Sibylla suppressed the urge to scowl. What inane things did these helpless initiates get themselves into? **  
>"<strong>What is it, acolyte?" Sibylla asked as she marched into the cathedral, ax leaning on her shoulder. **  
>"<strong>I-I was going to get some supplies into the market and I took the side exit." the acolyte started, her tense tone telling that she was nervous about something. **  
>"<strong>And what pray tell happened?" Sibylla grumbled, her patience starting to wear. **  
>"<strong>I found this." the younger woman said, opening the door. **  
><strong>There are the doorstep was a small bundle of cloth quietly shifting. Sibylla was about to bend down to confirm her suspicions when a small cry came from the cloth. There was no doubt about it, there was a baby left at the foot of the door. Both the acolyte and Sibylla were momentarily stunned as the child's cry grew louder. **  
><strong>It took a moment for Sibylla to realize that the onlookers were just as flabbergasted too, seeing a baby crying at the foot of the church door with a priestess holding a massive glass battle ax right over it. **  
>"<strong>Hold this." Sibylla ordered, handing the acolyte Head Reaper before bending down to pick up the child. **  
><strong>Sibylla quickly hurried the babe inside while the acolyte let out a cry and fell outside under the weight of the large weapon. **  
>"<strong>For the love of Akatosh, what do they feed your Breton women these days? It's just Glass, not Ebony for gods sakes'!" Sibylla scolded.

* * *

><p>Bann-Je noticed a flurry of activity going on near the kitchen larders. Several weeks ago the kitchen masters found their stock of supplies completely re-organized. It was jarring to say the least but they figured out that the cathedral's obsessive compulsive Argonian had somehow wandered down there and reorganized everything to his liking. The chefs had nothing against the new system and decided to keep it that way. <strong><br>**Bann-Je never did it intentionally. He just found something that so bothered his sense of order that it had to be fixed. He understood the kitchens were not his domain so whatever changes he made there he could not enforce, much less complain if no one followed them. Still, something was inexplicably drawing him closer. Perhaps he could change everything back if someone made a mess or something. **  
>"<strong>What is going on?" Bann-Je asked one of the hurried kitchen workers. **  
>"<strong>We have a new addition to the cathedral for the moment. We're trying to get whatever food supplies for him we can." the workers blathered. **  
>"<strong>Why? What's so important about this one person?" Bann-Je inquired. **  
>"<strong>We don't know his exact age yet or what he's eating." the worker explained. **  
>"<strong>Why don't you just ask him?" Bann-Je pointed out. **  
>"<strong>He's an infant!"

* * *

><p>Far from the hustle and bustle going on in the cathedral, Do'Ravier was in the Wayrest library synthesizing the research he left a day before. The librarians noticed a marked difference, though. The Khajiit was far from energetically pouncing from book to book, shelf to shelf. His pace was practically a mindless crawl.<p>

Other than that, nothing had changed about the cathedral researcher. Even the line of people asking for him did not go away.

Do'Ravier was quietly scribbling his chalk notes into a more formal ink report. The side of his chin still rested on his fist as he stared blankly at the report. Though his ears were slanted downwards he was able to pick up footsteps rapidly approaching his destination. The Khajiit grumbled as he searched his mind for what he could have possibly done to upset someone now. He also did not know of any other experiments he might have done that ran the risk of exploding. Granted, he usually found out about their explosive capacity _after _the explosion.

The door burst open to reveal Sylva.

"I need to know one thing from you and you better be honest with me." the Redguard woman snapped.

Now that they were not in a fight for survival and the daylight was on her, Do'Ravier could see that she had almond skin with matching eyes while she let her dark hair hang freely loose. She had a new robe on but most striking were the three angry pink streaks across her face. Having dabbled in healing, Do'Ravier knew that they were healing nicely but he was still certain that the scars they would leave would never go away.

"This one is listening." Do'Ravier replied, laying down his quill pen and clasping his paws together.

"One, drop the act. I know I heard you use 'I' the other day." Sylva ordered, taking the seat across from him.

"Very well. Continue." Do'Ravier assented.

"Not everyone appreciates Dwemer ruins like most scholars, but those that do know their value. _You_ know their value. Therefore, you would also know that they're worth killing for." Sylva said above a whisper.

The silence in the room was deafening.

"Forgive me if I sound angry, but I believe I came in there to help you out where you three could not find a way past the entrance. When I found the answer and all of us got put in danger, I did my best to keep you all alive. Yes, I made a mistake on the last leg of the journey. I should have seen that trigger stone that I am indeed the one that stepped on that trap which forever marked your face. Maybe I could have done a better job trying to save your friends too. But do not dare accuse me of trying to kill you." Do'Ravier growled.

There was another moment of silence before, much to Do'Ravier's surprise and dismay, Sylva started to tear up while her voice broke.

"I'm-I'm sorry, I...I just had to make sure. I-I know it was irrational but-but I had to make sure. It's-It's just that, Louis, Geoffrey, all three of us studied at the academy. We-we were all f-friends for so long."

The Khajiit waited patiently for the woman the regain her composure.

"I-t-thank you. That's all I needed. How did you get a steaming mug of tea in here?" Sylva asked, pointing at the warm cup next to the Khajiit.

Do'Ravier blinked, awfully thrown off by the sudden change in questions.

"I'm sorry, I was always a little easily distracted." Sylva apologized.

"You are...very interesting." Do'Ravier sighed.

"Thank you, that's odds to say in light of the circumstances and the scars on my face. How did you get that mug in here? They're not allowed in the library and there's not a stove in here to warm it up." Sylva blathered.

"Destruction spells have their less destructive uses." Do'Ravier smirked, lighting up a ball of fire in his paw before putting it out again.

And without a word, he got back to work.

* * *

><p>"Such a beautiful baby boy, I can't believe anyone would just leave him on our doorsteps." Claudia cooed, watching the child from his crib.<p>

For now, the cathedral staff decided that the best thing to do was to keep the child. If no one gave them any information on tracking down the child's family or nearest kin, the temple would have to raise him themselves.

"We have no clue what circumstances the mother was in. Perhaps they thought this was the best decision." Sibylla shrugged, watching Claudia fawn over the baby.

"I know, I know, I can't help myself." Claudia admitted sheepishly.

"Claudia, you spend all your time working, managing and leading and as soon as a baby drops in you become all motherly. Perhaps you need to consider settling down." Sibylla smirked.

"I do love children but I don't think finding a husband and having a family is not quite for me yet, thank you." Claudia replied.

"Don't wait too long, Claudia. Not everything can fit into your nice, neat timetables." Sibylla warned.

"Yes, yes. Speaking of timetables, the archon wants us to meet him this afternoon." Claudia announced, suddenly becoming all buisness.

"Archon? Meet?" Bann-Je's reptillian voice chimed in.

The Argonian rounded the doorway and stepped in. Immediately, he did his usual ritual of passing through in and out of it three times before once again walking up to join the two women inside.

"Yes. He told me he could not get into the specifics and that secrecy was of the importance. Otherwise, I don't know anything more. Also, could someone get that Khajiit down here when the time comes? Some fresh air might do him some good." Claudia said.

_When surrounded by those with masks unseen_

_When among those who make a world of dreams_

_Watch for the one whose face is revealed_

_Remember him well, for he shall bring you to the death fields_

_The story begins, the chapter starts_

_The journey partake with strong heart_

_The Divines guide you, for here the darkness enfolds you_

"You okay there, Claudia? You're just standing there." Sibylla said, an eyebrow raised over a smirk.

Claudia blinked, realizing that she had stepped towards the door and then a vision had taken hold of her. She saw the face of Azura again but...was that another face?

"On second thought, I'll go get the Khajiit." Claudia announced.

* * *

><p>"You never answered my question, you know." Claudia said, looking up at Do'Ravier.<p>

The mage had been given his own personal shelf by the librarians. They were becoming rather irritated with the stack of books piling around on the floor and left open on his desk. A compromise was made and a whole shelf was wheeled in for him to keep books on for quick reference. That also meant he needed his own ladder to reach some of the shelves, the very ladder he was on at the very highest rung.

"Which question?" Do'Ravier asked, eyes studying a book.

"Why you change your accent and dialect with some people. Sometimes you sound like a Khajiit fresh out of Elsweyr. Other times you speak just as good as someone born and raised in Cyrodil." Claudia replied.

Do'Ravier chuckled before replying in a very heavy Khajiiti accent.

"You men and elves all have your claims to taking all of the land and building empires. You are all very proud. Khajiit are proud too, but Khajiit do not have numbers or hunger for empires like men and elves do. Some are very proud and think themselves better than most others. This one has seen many treat Khajiit like little cubs who do not know their left paw from their right."

Claudia felt a ball of ice form in her stomach. Prejudice was alive and well in Tamriel and Do'Ravier had a fair accusation. Khajiits and Argonians got the worst of it. At one point, both were being imported in large numbers to Morrowind as slaves and treated like criminals.

"This one simply wishes to know a person more honestly. If someone treats a sneaky, uneducated Khajiit poorly, then that person is merely a liar if they treat others with respect just because they wear better clothes or sound smarter." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"So you let yourself look more like a bad stereotype just to see if someone is a decent human being?" Claudia asked, arms folded in front of her.

"That is a fair accusation." Do'Ravier replied, his accent less pronounced now.

"Isn't that rather deceptive of you? A little less than honest?" Claudia chided with a smile.

"This one never claims to be a complete saint." Do'Ravier shrugged, returning the grin.

"Right, so remember, we have a meeting in an hour. Don't keep us waiting." Claudia reminded.

"I won't." Do'Ravier assured, looking at his book again.

"Hey, a little off topic, but what do you know of Azura?" Claudia blurted, a little surprised that she just let the question slip herself.

"Azura, the Daedra? Ah, she is considered one of the few benevolent Daedra. Daedra work in ways we do not completely understand. Some say she was instrumental in the Neraverine defeating Dagoth Ur. I've never heard of a bad cult from her." the mage shrugged.

"So, she's a good Daedra? We don't necessary hunt Azura cults then?" Claudia inquired.

"I said she was _benevolent _which can be quite different from _good_. A harlot on the streets is benevolent to her customers but the diseases they risk getting is far from good." Do'Ravier cautioned.

"So what's the Vigilant of Stendarr's policy on them?" Claudia demanded.

"I don't know, you're the team leader. I thought you would know." Do'Ravier retorted.

"Never had an assignment against them, and I was wondering why." Claudia lied, silently grateful for the convenient cover up.

"I suppose its more important to get the nasty Daedra worshippers like those who follow Molag Bal or Mehrunes than benign ones like Azura." the Khajiit opined.

* * *

><p>The archon's office was closed and Sibylla knew better than to barge in uninvited without Claudia. She had arrived early. Any reason to not get swamped by people with inane questions or having to watch over the new babe was good enough for her. She would readily admit it, unless it had something to do with hitting anything with her ax really hard, she did not feel comfortable about it.<p>

She heard people talking through the door but she did not feel like being rude and trying to eavesdrop. Hearing the voices getting closer, Sibylla assumed that their meeting was almost over and that she and the others would be allowed to come in. She did wonder where the rest of the team was. Was she that early because the others were usually better than her when it came time to being punctual.

The door opened and Sibylla locked eyes with the person leaving the room. Her heart jumped into her throat as she forced herself not to lash out at who she saw. She was not expecting to see something she so loathed being so close unexpectedly.

It was a Thalmor.


	8. Chapter 8

_Two Imperials got married, and their friends sent them gifts_

_The Khajiit and Wood Elf stole the gifts they sent, and then tried to steal from each other_

_The Orc didn't bother wrapping his_

_The Dark Elf sent urns made from volcanic ash_

_The Argonian was the usher, so didn't bother sending a gift_

_The High Elf couldn't be bothered to show up, and was too cheap to send much_

_The Nord gave a few gold coins, before taking advantage of the open bar_

* * *

><p>Nevermind that the White-Gold Concordate was signed two hundred years ago. Nevermind that the Nords never really did appreciate the treaty and further resented the banning of Talos from the Divines. Nevermind that Nords and Elves never really got along well anyway.<p>

Sibylla had a healthy dislike for Thalmor.

The Thalmor were the new ruling order in the High Elf province of Summerset Isle. In short time they had managed to gain control of the Wood Elf home of Valenwood and before long they practically had sway over the Khajitt in Elsweyr. A terrible war broke out between the Thalmor ruling government known as the Aldmeri Dominion and the Cyrodillic Empire.

The Empire managed to fight the Dominion to a standstill, just barely. Even then, both military powers were effectively decimated but the Empire was in a clear disadvantage. Nonetheless, a treaty was signed giving further concessions to the Aldmeri Dominion to at least buy some peace for the Empire, maybe a chance to recuperate.

It did not work well. Hammerfell did not appreciate the terms and continued the fight against the Dominion and was rejected by the rest of the Empire. Skyrim was divided over the matter and before anyone knew it a civil war broke out in the northern province.

Part of the treaty involved the banning of the worship of Talos. Talos was no longer to be considered a man who was elevated to the status of a Divine but as simply a great hero. Anyone caught worshipping Talos was subject to Aldmeri persecution, something the Thalmor were all too happy to enforce. This ban was mostly enforced by Thalmor Justiciars who were headquartered in scattered locations across the Empire.

The previous Nine Divines of the Empire became the Eight Divines as it originally was in old times. For the Nords of Skyrim who had a particular connection to Talos, as the man was a Nord himself, this was especially insulting. Sure, Sibylla felt that sting just as any one of her kinsmen.

But mostly, she hated Elves who thought that by sheer virtue of being themselves, they were better than everyone else. She felt that alone was good enough reason to crush their noses in. Her white knuckled, clenched fist was proof enough of that.

"Ah Sibylla, I see you've been waiting patiently." Archon Tacitus' voice broke the woman's tunnel vision.

"...Y-yes." Sibylla stammered, still not able to stop staring into the Thalmor agent's arrogant countenance.

"This is Delamar. He is the new Thalmor head of the Justiciars here in Wayrest." Archon Tacitus introduced, still sitting as his desk.

"Well, congratulations." Sibylla said with a nod, regaining her composure.

"Yes." Delamar murmured, still looking down at the Nord.

Delamar had the usual dull gold skin of most High Elves. Not all High Elves were key agents of the Aldmeri Dominion and the Thalmor that led it. Most High Elves were indeed arrogant but the Thalmor brought it to a whole different level and Delamar was no different from any Thalmor Sibylla met. From their gaze to their mannerisms, everything about them seemed to remind you that you were not a Thalmor like them, and therefore they saw you as a lesser thing.

Divines, she wanted so badly to cave his nose in with her fist.

"Delamar was particularly interested in you and the rest of the team. He thinks his men could learn something from you, Claudia, Bann-Je and Do'Ravier." Tacitus added.

That left a bitter taste in Sibylla's mouth. She had to admit, the Vigilant of Stendarr and the Thalmor Justiciars had some similarities. They both hunted down groups of heretical worshippers but to Sibylla, that's where the comparison broke down.

Daedra were dangerous, that was no doubt. The only danger Talos worshippers posed was to the make believe world the Thalmor wanted to construct.

"I see." Sibylla forced herself to say politely.

She could not have been more relieved to see Do'Ravier, Bann-Je and Claudia show up.

"Delamar, I will have to ask that you wait outside while I address this team of Vigilants. We will work out the collaboration later." Tacitus said.

Sibylla was more than happy to close the door in the Thalmor's face once all of them had stepped inside.

* * *

><p>"So let me get this straight. We're going to have to play dress up?" Claudia demanded, eyes wide with disbelief.<p>

"More or less, yes." Tacitus nodded.

"I think that's more of the 'more' and less of the 'less.'" Do'Ravier smirked.

"Your last mission showed that at least one noble here has decided to cavort with Daedra. We have been getting whispers of that for the past few months now but you brought the first hard piece of evidence. Now we have reason to act." Archon Tacitus explained with a shrug.

"Last time I checked, I thought I took care of him. Those whispers should go away." Bann-Je defended.

"From what we've been hearing, it's far more than one person. That's why this festival gives us an opportunity to gather more information as well as nail someone we have been hearing a lot of chatter about, someone further up than Landuc ever was." Tacitus replied.

"How about we go over the plan one last time for this one?" Do'Ravier requested with a raised paw. **  
><strong>**"**Okay, here we go." Claudia said, raising her hands while watching the Archon, ready to recite the plan. **  
><strong>**"**The Duke Aaron Budielle is holding a ball where most of the other nobles have been invited to attend. The party is being held in honor of the Empire's continued pledge of the White-Gold Concordate. The problem is, a lot of rumors have been going on about this festival and Duke Budielle himself. Associates and servants of the Duke have been seen in areas known for Daedra cultist activity. We need to go in to make sure that there's nothing fishy going on and maybe nab a cultist or two if we can find one." Claudia recited. **  
><strong>**"**Correct." Archon Tacitus nodded in approval. **  
><strong>**"**I'm just having problems with the whole 'dress up' part." Do'Ravier admitted unhappily. **  
><strong>**"**Do'Ravier, we can't go in there wearing our armor or robes." Claudia replied with a roll of her eyes. **  
><strong>**"**Yes but you and Sibylla get to go in as lesser nobles and merchants." Do'Ravier grumbled. **  
><strong>**"**The Khajiit and I are stuck as servants." Bann-Je pointed out. **  
><strong>**"**I'm sorry, but...no offense, but can you think of a more plausible cover up for you guys?" Archon Tacitus offered. **  
><strong>The Khajiit let out a defeated sigh. **  
><strong>**"**No." Do'Ravier admitted. **  
><strong>**"**The ball is in three days. Preparations have been made. How else you want to prepare is up to you." Archon Tacitus said before dismissing them.

* * *

><p>Claudia understood that everyone deals with stress in different ways. There was no way to sugar coat it. Their jobs carried an element of danger. Though no one may have wanted to discuss it, there was always the possibility that their next mission could also be their last. Claudia always felt that it was the ambiguous missions that were the worst. There was no clear sense of danger, no obvious sense that there were overwhelming odds that almost certainly spelled death. Yet, there was still that inescapable fact that all it took was one stray arrow, one unexpected trap, one underestimated piece of intelligence and the mission could end in lost lives. <strong><br>**How do you prepare for a mission where you both intend to live past it yet want to take that one measure of preparation just in case? **  
><strong>Claudia started to notice that Sibylla visiting the tavern more often. Claudia decided to follow her on one occasion. After all, she had to be keeping an eye out on the members of her team. **  
>"<strong>So what exactly have you been doing here?" Claudia asked over the din of the tavern chatter. **  
><strong>It was not completely out of place to see Cult of Divine clergy in a tavern. After all, other than the market square the tavern was the most popular hang and social meeting place for most people in Wayrest. Furthermore, beverages with a slight alcoholic content could be a tad bit safer than the water. The water supply could be tainted with diseases. Alcohol would kill any bacteria in the drink. **  
><strong>This particular tavern was close to the Cathedral in the main part of the city. The floor was tiled with polished, smooth stone while the walls had a rustic look of rough wood boards. The owners did their best to keep it clean but that varied throughout the day. Despite the wide, clean glass windows, the interior always seemed just a little bit dim as smoke hung around over sparse, lit candles. **  
>"<strong>Getting a drink." Sibylla shrugged as the bartender slide a tankard of mead to her. **  
>"<strong>It's not even afternoon yet, only late morning." Claudia chided. **  
>"<strong>Says the Imperial with the ale." Sibylla snickered. **  
>"<strong>...Okay, so you got me." Claudia joked, taking a sip. **  
>"<strong>Everyone thinks that us Nords have a great aversion to being sober. That could not be further from the truth. You see, Nords don't get drunk. We just drink." Sibylla laughed. **  
>"<strong>You do this often before a mission?" Claudia asked curiously. **  
>"<strong>I do this all the time. How do you think I make it through all those mornings listening to half those people coming for advice?" Sibylla shrugged. **  
>"<strong>You think maybe you should consider a more...balanced coping mechanism?" Claudia offered. **  
>"<strong>You know, originally I just took a few more mugs of mead before going off on a mission because it was easier to forget about the the danger I would be facing. It was easier to focus on using your weapon and knocking the enemies down if you weren't so worried that maybe you might make a mistake and that would be your last." Sibylla admitted. **  
>"<strong>Is that why you still do it?" Claudia asked, taking another sip of the ale. **  
>"<strong>Nah, I just really like mead." Sibylla replied. **  
><strong>The two sat in silence until they were done. There was still the shadow of the mission that needed to be done still hanging over their heads.

* * *

><p>A cathedral usually has smaller shrines and alcoves meant for private devotion or meditation. Most people usually paid a quick visit, left an offering, a quick prayer maybe a couple minutes of thought and then they were off. However, there were a few more dedicated faithful who came in regularly. Some of them came on a daily basis and probably lingered a little longer near the shrine but inevitably they would be gone. <strong><br>**What was unusual was to have two of the priests meditating by the shrine to Stendarr. Namely, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je. **  
><strong>To the observing eye, meditation looks like a lot of unproductively happening. This is mostly due to the fact that meditation is a mental exercise and like any exercise, the uninitiated might find it hard at first. It is only after diligent perseverance that someone starts to find the benefits of meditation. **  
><strong>Even then, meditating has no standardized rule. **  
><strong>Bann-Je would spend the eve of battle focusing his mental psyche back into Squints his Eye, his sinister alter ego who was far less neurotic. Do'Ravier use meditation to work himself into a state of serenity and focus, preparing himself mentally and spiritually. After all, he figured he would probably want his soul to be ready in the event he did not make it. He accomplished this ideal by meditating on the Divines and their virtues. **  
><strong>Still, like any exercise, meditation could sometimes require breaks. **  
><strong>Do'Ravier opened his eyes halfway, appearing rather sleepy as his whiskers twitched for a moment. He placed a paw on his face, if only to brace himself because he did not realize just how much he had exhausted himself sitting still and concentrating for so long. Either that or he was bored. **  
>"<strong>Why are you so obsessive compulsive?" the Khajiit blurted. **  
><strong>Bann-Je ignored him, too dead set on getting himself into his altered mindset. **  
><strong>Realizing he was being ignored, Do'Ravier simply grunted and got back to meditating. **  
>"<strong>You two, you're on the Imperial's team, aren't you?" a cold, authoritative voice demanded. **  
><strong>This time, both the Khajiit and Argonian opened their eyes to see who was speaking to them. Standing a good several feet above them with a haughty face and suspicious eyes was a Thalmor. **  
><strong>Delamar. **  
>"<strong>Well?" Delamar demanded, wanting his answer. **  
>"<strong>Yes." Do'Ravier replied. **  
><strong>Bann-Je felt himself get nervous. You did not have to be a patriot of the Empire or a hot blooded Nord of Skyrim to dislike the Thalmor. After all, they were Elven supremacist. Any supremacist had a tendency to kill social likability. Bann-Je did not believe he was anti-Thalmor personally, but that did not mean he trusted them either. To Bann-Je, Thalmor were like taxmen. You followed their instructions and you worked with them but that did not mean you liked them. Therefore he was not too keen with Do'Ravier complying so easily. Bann-Je was not completely sure Claudia would approve of this. **  
><strong>He hated when Claudia was in a bad mood. She'd be barking at them all day. **  
>"<strong>Good, I have a few questions for you two then." Delamar announced, still gazing contemptuously down on them, as if he only spoke to those of the beast race if he had absolutely ran out of all other options. **  
>"<strong>Perhaps you should be asking our superior, Claudia. Or the Archon." Bann-Je offered carefully. **  
>"<strong>Nonesense, I do believe that even those of lesser statue can be perfectly capable of honesty. And dishonesty for that matter as well." Delamar said coldly. **  
>"<strong>What do you wish to know, Justiciar?" Do'Ravier asked complacantly. **  
>"<strong>Ah good, a Khajiit that knows his place. Tell me, do you believe there to be a large number of Talos worshippers here in Wayrest, or High Rock for that matter?" Delamar inquired, eyes studying both of them. **  
>"<strong>This one is simply a priest of Stendarr. The worship of Talos has been banned. Do'Ravier would be obligated to turn in such rebels if he found any. This one has not found any such dissidents." the Khajiit replied. **  
>"<strong>Yes, but not everyone has your sense of obedience, cat." Delamar murmured. **  
><strong>Bann-Je was really not liking this elf. **  
>"<strong>And can I expect this kind of dedication to the ban of Talos from your leader, Claudia?" Delamar demanded of the both of them. **  
>"<strong>This one is certain of that, yes." Do'Ravier nodded. **  
><strong>Appearing to be appeased, at least momentarily, Delamar watched them from over his contemptuous nose for a moment before walking away. His dark, sinister Thalmor robes seemed to take the cold with them as the Aldmeri agent left. **  
>"<strong>I don't know if we should be answering all his questions without Claudia knowing." Bann-Je growled to Do'Ravier. **  
>"<strong>Trust me, just tell them what they want to hear. Life is easier that way." the Khajiit replied.

* * *

><p>Bann-Je held his two bound swords as only a conjurer familiar with their use could. Conjured blades and weapons felt much different from material blades for they were as light as a feather and gave practically no resistance when swung through the air. For some people, this could be quite unnerving if not a bit dangerous. It was not unheard of for mages to badly injure themselves when using such wondrous weapons.<p>

Bann-Je constantly had to spar with them, making his use of the magic far more effective as well as keeping his form and use of them. He especially wanted to feel prepared for their use this time. Sure, he probably had called on their use countless times by now and they had not failed him yet. However, this time he, and Do'Ravier as well, would be going in without weapons. While Do'Ravier probably had command over dozons of offensive spells, these bound swords were the only form of hostile magic he knew.

It was the middle of the evening and he was in one of the closed chapels, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes. He spared with an invisible enemy as if fighting off a ghost. Perhaps that was only fitting for his blades were ethereal themselves. Many an unwary target found themselves killed by something they barely saw, an Argonian camouflaged under invisibility, striking out with blades that were lighter than air.

He heard footsteps approaching.

Both blades vaporized as Bann-Je sheepishly stood straight, clasped his hands together as if in prayer and faced the shrine. He lowered his eyes to the floor, trying to look like he had been this way for awhile.

He was shy about training. It was part of his compulsion. If they did not see him train, they would not think him to be an assassin. If they did not think he was an assassin then he had already won.

The door opened to reveal Claudia stepping inside.

"Bann-Je, what are you doing here?" Claudia asked.

"Just uh...contemplating..."

Which chapel was he in again?

"Akatosh! I was contemplating Akatosh." Bann-Je lied, noticing the shrine in front of him.

"Ah, good choice." Claudia said before taking a seat in a pew next to the lizard.

The two were left in silence. Perhaps Claudia was contemplating the Divines but Bann-Je had other things on his mind. Sure he was staring at the shrine but he was more focused on temporal things.

"Has the Thalmor leader spoken to you yet?" Bann-Je asked.

"No, but I'm sure he will when he wishes to. Does he worry you?" Claudia asked.

"Never dealt with Thalmor. He's someone I would not want to cross." Bann-Je replied.

"Keep it that way. I have enough trouble to deal with as it is." Claudia answered quietly.

Bann-Je decided he should leave Claudia alone so she could have a few moments to herself. He decided that she above all people deserved at least that. Being a leader could not be easy.

* * *

><p>Three days came and went. Sure, they kept up with their routines and did their private rituals of preparing themselves whichever way they felt necessary. While the Divines might have endorsed their work, in the end it was still on their part to get the job done. Supplies had to be gathered, details had to be worked out and all too importantly prayers were made. Even then, the team realized they did not have much to go on and they were going in blind. This was all the more reason to pray.<p>

Evening had come, the lights were on and the music was playing. The festival was on. At the large mansion where the party was hosted people thronged in numbers while an army of servants saw to every need that arose.

Arriving on the scene were four people. Sibylla and Claudia wore fine dresses of an elegance that they were not used to. Jewelry of rather expensive make hung where appropriate though the two took care not to look too gaudy. Neither were fond of the idea of being living ornaments. Meanwhile, Bann-Je and Do'Raiver were doing their best to appreciate the plain clothes of servants they were expected to wear. Both wore matching uniforms of khaki colored trousers, white formal shirts with a black vest to go over. Do'Ravier particularly did not seem thrilled with the get up. He preferred his mages robe. The sheer size and activity going on at the mansion was enough to boggle the mind. In fact, all four of them stood in awe, trying to figure out how they were going to accomplish their mission.

"So...shall we crash this party?" Do'Ravier asked.

"Sure." Claudia shrugged.

"Could you boys try to sneak off a cask of mead while you're doing your servant thing for me?" Sibylla requested.

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's note<span>: A certain game is being released next week. I'm going to apologize ahead of time if updates slow down. _


	9. Chapter 9

_If you're every really worried of a necromancer_

_disturbing the remains of your departed loved one_

_but don't wish to cremate their remains_

_Places their final resting place_

_under the weight of the biggest rock you can find_

* * *

><p>"So what do we do from here?" Do'Ravier asked curiously.<p>

Sure, the objective given to them was simple enough. They were to go and confirm whether or not the Duke Aaron Budielle was involved with Daedric practices, or if anyone else at the party was for that matter. However, while the the Archon claimed that Duke Budielle fired off plenty of rumors and observed activity, the Vigilant of Stendarr could not pin down any solid leads. They were going in blind but they had little choice. That also left little room to plan. All of this meant they had to go in and simply investigate. They had no clue what to keep an eye out for or who to watch.

"Well, last I checked Sibylla and I have to go in there, look pretty, listen to others and get loose lips to talk." Claudia said, waving herself with the decorative fan she had.

"And us?" Bann-Je inquired.

"To look like servants." Sibylla replied bluntly.

"And last I checked, servants looked busy. Off you go, chop chop." Claudia dismissed with a brushing motion of her hand.

Do'Ravier and Bann-Je looked back with a glance that was somewhere between horrified and dismayed.

"Well, don't keep standing there. You'll blow your cover by not playing the part. Do you want me to have the guards flog you?" Sibylla threatened, also joining in.

"Unbelievable." Do'Ravier grumbled and he and Bann-Je shuffled off.

As Sibylla and Claudia waited for the two to disappear so to create distance between them, the two ladies wondered just how well they were going to fit their parts. Again, Claudia was thinking about several weeks back when she yelled at the Archon that just because her team wore priestly robes did not automatically make them clergy. The same held true for servants clothes and fancy dresses.

They certainly didn't fit well as common people either.

"Remind me to get those two something nice from the tavern when this is all over." Claudia muttered to Sibylla as they continued to walk towards the center of the party.

"Why?" Sibylla asked, folding up her own fan and putting it away. She found the silly thing completely worthless.

"Lets be honest, they do tend to get the butt end of the jobs and Do'Ravier has been through a bit in the past few days." Claudia replied.

"True, but the Khajiit kind of did it to himself." Sibylla answered.

"Well, I have to keep an eye out for all of you." Claudia shrugged.

"Yeah well, for now keep an eye out for anyone doing something shady. I hate how we're going in here blind." Sibylla practically growled under her breath.

Somehow, that was the last thing Claudia heard from her and then both women were inadvertently tossed separate ways from the countless people in the crowd that had been invited. Nobles, merchants, officials, even a few notable commoners had been invited to the ball. Needless to say, despite Claudia doing her best to seek Sibylla out again, she could not for the life of her single out the warrior Nord.

Instead, she abruptly bumped into a familiar High Elf.

"Good evening to you, my lady. Seeing that we're both at the same party, perhaps we could discuss matters of business?" the High Elf's haughty voice hit her ears.

It was Delamar.

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier and Bann-Je found themselves being funneled with all the servants who were entering and exiting on particular doorway. It felt like being a piece of driftwood afloat on a river, hopelessly at the mercy of the water's current. The driftwood's helplessness to the river is what they felt over the entire situation.<p>

"This one is unsure over what to do whenever we get to wherever this hallway is leading." Do'Ravier whispered in the more expected, coarse Khajiiti dialect.

"Just go with it." Bann-Je hissed back.

"This one is not trained to 'just go with it.' Do'Ravier prefers having a plan." Do'Ravier grumbled nervously.

"There was never a plan to begin with." Bann-Je growled quietly.

"This one was hoping that would fix itself." Do'Ravier admitted.

"...You planned for the plan to fix itself? That was indeed a bad plan." Bann-Je rolled his eyes.

"This one can see that perfectly clear in hindsight." the Khajiit retorted quietly.

"You better work on your foresight then because you're going to need it." Bann-Je warned.

Apparently, the hallway led to the kitchens.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier quickly took in the scene before them. The kitchens had become the nerve center for all the staff at the party. Servants hustled to return empty bottles and report on what courses of food needed to be restocked while counterparts hurried to rectify any shortages in wine or courses.

It also appeared that there were other servants who were going deeper into the mansion since they disappeared into hallways that led away from the party.

"Do we split up or stay together?" Bann-Je hissed.

"What?" Do'Ravier asked, unsure.

"We stick together. You are not good at this." Bann-Je replied quickly in annoyance.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bann-Je." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"Bann-Je is not here. Call me Squints-his-Eye." the Argonian replied cryptically.

Do'Ravier shot the Argonian a look of shock, not quite sure what that was suppose to mean. Bann-Je only bothered to look back, as if wondering why the Khajiit was puzzled with his behavior. Do'Ravier was about to write it off as one of the Bann-Je's eccentricities when he noticed that Bann-Je's usually round pupils had narrowed and become snake like.

Any further observation was cut short from someone yelling at them.

* * *

><p>"Many Imperials are not very fond of Thalmor such as myself, especially those who are originally from the Imperial City of Cyrodill. I heard you were born and raised there. So tell me, are my political affiliations going to be a problem for us working together?" Delamar asked bluntly, eyes still scanning Claudia.<p>

Claudia raised a dismissive hand as she stifled a chuckle.

"I have no intentions of making our lives any more difficult than they already are." Claudia replied.

"Oh good. It is certainly a waste of time trying to beat your lessers into submission." Delamar muttered, sipping wine.

"Yes." Claudia replied uncomfortably.

"Our jobs are not completely unalike. You hunt Daedra worshippers, vampires and other misfits of the night. My Justiciars make sure the ban on Talos is enforced." Delamar said

"Correct." Claudia forced herself to say. She felt like she was handling a poisonous snake by the tail and she had no clue whether it intended to strike or remain placent.

"Then tell me why my men draw animosity while your Vigilants of Stendarr remain heroes?" Delamar said smoothly, though Claudia detected the hint of a growl under it.

She would have explained but then she saw a face she could have sworn she recognized. The problem is, she had no clue who that person was. The last time she saw that face, it was in a vision.

A vision from Azura.

* * *

><p>"You two, are you just going to stand around there? We have wine that needs to be served! Get your lazy hides over here and get back to work!" A furious Breton cook was yelling.<p>

Do'Ravier stared like someone caught off guard. Bann-Je meanwhile quickly saw an opportunity. The Argonian was the first to move, discreetly slapping the Khajiit's leg with his tail as he move forward to signal Do'Ravier to follow.

"We apologize." Bann-Je murmured quietly as he took the platter of beverages, motioning for a still bewildered Do'Ravier to do the same.

The persona that was Squints-his-Eye was becoming very annoyed with the Khajiit who it saw as a massive liability.

"Go! You've wasted enough time already! Off with you!" the exasperated cook hollered before turning his attention to other things.

"That was scary. We just barely got out of that." Do'Ravier muttered under his breath with a sigh of relief as they walked away.

"Hardly. He practically gave us our way out." Squints-his-Eye grumbled in annoyance.

"Sorry Do'Ravier does not do well with infiltrating. This one does better with more arcane talents." the Khajiit growled discreetly.

"Just focus on our mission and do exactly what I tell you. And keep your wits about you." Bann-Je snapped as they continued walking straight.

He was hoping his mental focus would continue to hold onto his altered ego. Should that fail, they would all be in trouble. The persona that was Bann-Je, holed up into his mental corner, briefly wondered how all of this worked but the now dominant Squints-his-Eye squashed such ponderings.

Wait a minute.

Bann-Je flicked his forked tongue twice in rapid succession while his slit like serpent eyes twitched a moment. Curious, Do'Ravier glanced over at him. The Khajiit felt that his ears and their heightened hearing would do no good. Bann-Je's tongue was for smelling, not hearing.

"What is it?" Do'Ravier asked.

"I smell poison." Bann-Je hissed.

"Smell poison?" Do'Ravier whispered incredulously.

"Yes. It's subtle but very specific, distinctive and rare. I'd pick that poison out from anywhere. It smells like death deliciously mixed with hemlock. Follow me." Bann-Je whispered, following his tongue.

Do'Ravier blinked but otherwise found himself in no position to protest.

Bann-Je did not wander far. The Khajiit and Argonian found themselves nearing a door which Bann-Je discreetly opened while trying to maintain the facade that they actually belonged there. It was not an easy balance to draw. Finding that no one was paying attention to them, both quickly slipped through the door.

"Looks like an storage basement for wine." Do'Ravier observed.

"Hmmm...it's not overpowering. No, it's not spread throughout these bottles. Follow me." Bann-Je murmured to himself.

They crept down to the bottom of the stairs and found themselves on a cold, cobble stone floor. Cold, aged, wooden barrels lined the walls while racks of wine sat in the center of the room. The placed was well maintained, there were no cobwebs and it was clean for a celler. Still, it did not look like it got a lot of traffic.

Bann-Je led through through the shelves of wine. For a brief moment, Do'Ravier was starting to wonder if they would find it at all. That came to a halt when Bann-Je abruptly stopped in front of a wooden box. the Argonian did not spare a moment and quickly lifted the lid.

Within the box was a large, stout green bottle. Do'Ravier could not be sure but it looked like the liquid inside was deep black, looking almost like tar. However, it did not seem to be thick and it probably had the same consistency of water.

"I knew it. Assassins like to call this 'Nocturnal's Tears.' Nocturnal may not be a patron of assassination but she's the Daedra of shadows and they say no poison is darker than this. It's tasteless, easily taking on the consistency and color of whatever drink it is put in. It's slow acting but only a teaspoon is needed to kill a horse." Bann-Je hissed.

"What is the antidote?" Do'Ravier asked urgently.

"There is none. Find Claudia and tell her immediately." Bann-Je ordered.

* * *

><p>Sibylla truly hated situations like these. The clothing she wore, while pretty and fancy, certainly did not keep the cold or wind out. It also provided nothing in the way of armor. The dress was long and while slinky, did not allow her a full range of motion. If anything, it also screamed for others to notice her rather than providing camouflage.<p>

She felt more at home wearing her armor.

And then there were the people. Gods, there was too many of them. And they all wanted to talk and chat about senseless things. At first she thought it was almost as bad as the stream of people coming to her for advice in the cathedral. After three people trying to chat her up, she decided it was in fact worst. At least the advice seekers had a purpose in their conversations. These people just had the most inane interests. Who cared what she looked like or how many dresses she owned or the quality of her handmaidens?

The only benefit this party had going for it was the selection of alcohol.

She was probably on her third bottle of mead. She honestly preferred it to be in a tankard but no, these nobles had to have it in the silly stuff. That did not count the wine she also drank just to give it a try. She found it unsatisfactory and went back to the mead.

She had to keep reminding herself that she was in fact on a mission but hey, drinking was part of blending in, right?

"Sibylla! Sibylla!" she heard a voice hiss urgently to her.

The Nord woman turned around to see a vaguely familiar Khajiit.

Oh wait, it was Do'Ravier. She almost did not recognize him in the servant clothes. Also the alcohol probably was not helping. To Oblivion with that idea. Nords did not get drunk, they just drank.

"Sibylla, please tell this one where Claudia is. Do'Ravier has been looking for her, something urgent, but cannot find her." Do'Ravier sputtered, a platter of various spirits in his paws though he was no offering it. Obviously it was there only to help keep up his disguise.

Sibylla found herself browsing through the options of alcohol.

"Sibylla!" Do'Ravier hissed.

"Oh, sorry. No, I have not seen Claudia. Last I saw she was talking to some Thalmor prick." Sibylla murmured.

"Argh!" Do'Ravier growled in frustration before rapidly glancing around, still searching for the Imperial.

"I'm right here, you know. You could probably tell me what's going on, puss." Sibylla reminded, taking the only bottle of mead on the plate.

"Bann-Je found some very potent poison in the basement and he's certain it's going to be used tonight. What should we do?" Do'Ravier asked in nervous distress.

Sibylla almost did a spit take with her alcohol but then remembered that would have been a terrible waste of mead.

"Um, okay, think here, Sibylla." the Nord muttered to herself as she idly scratched her chin. Gods, she hated the curls in her hair.

"Great, we're getting tactical advice from a slightly pickled Nord." Do'Ravier grumbled ruefully.

"Shut it or I'll slap you. Don't give away anything yet. Make sure that poison does not get into any of the food but keep an eye on it. Maybe we can get a lead on who to incriminate if we find someone trying to use it. How did Bann-Je find it in the first place?" Sibylla demanded.

"He sniffed it out." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"Perfect. Have him stake it out or follow the scent. I'll remain here and see if I spot anything suspicious. I'll also inform Claudia if she shows up." Sibylla ordered.

"Got it." Do'Ravier nodded before dashing off to get Bann-Je.

Sibylla decided all that hard work merited another swig of mead.

* * *

><p>Claudia had very much Delamar hanging as she went to track down this person. He was a Dark Elf and most of his head was veiled under the hood of a mage. Even then, she was certain that she had seen enough of his face to recognize him. Besides, the circumstances of her identifying him was odd enough. Since when do you recognize people in life from what you saw in dream life?<p>

Doesn't matter. She _had _to speak to this man.

Claudia tracked him down, standing under an overhead patio with his arms folded in front of his chest. Under the shadow of his hood his molten red eyes searched through the crowds of people. She wondered if he too was up to something and if he was, she was almost certain it had to be something sinister.

Still, it could just be her bias talking. While the man was wearing the robe of a mage, it was expensive looking. He could have been an important mage that was invited to the party.

"Good evening, sir. Enjoying the party?" Claudia greeted, feeling her grasp on her cover starting to slip.

The Dunmer looked up at her and then nodded with a grunt.

Claudia raised an eyebrow at him, finding his response odd. Furthermore, she realized she was becoming frustrated with him. She wanted answers and she wanted them _now_.

Her following course of actions reflected more of her mad desperation than her usual preference for calm, calculated decisions.

"I'll be completely honest with you first." Claudia announced, though just above a whisper as she drew a small, thin but wickedly sharp stiletto from within the folds of her dress.

"My name is Claudia and I'm a Vigilant of Stendarr. I also think there's more to you than meets the eye, something more Daedric to be exact. Be honest with me, and we can continue to have a civil discussion. Shout or resist and I'll drive this into your throat before you can beg for an interrogation." Claudia hissed.

She had the man in the shadows under a balcony. The stiletto was pressed between her palm and her thumb. Any onlooker would have thought that she had her hand pressed affectionately on the Dark Elf's cheek. In reality, she had its wicked point directly on his throat.

To her initial relief, and also frustration, the Dark Elf remained calm and silent. Still, he hesitated to answer. That was something she was not looking for. She gritted her teeth and considered what her next, amplified threat would be when the Dark Elf suddenly started talking back in a hush tone.

"My name is Furaldur, I am a mage and priest of Peryite, the Daedra lord of order. The reason I am here, however, has little to do with my particular Daedric patron, but rather the machinations of another, more sinister one. Do I have your attention well enough for you to consider lessening your grip on me?" Furaldur asked under an air of quiet confidence.

"Keep talking." Claudia ordered.

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier was carefully making his way back to the cellar where he last left Bann-Je. While the Khajiit did not want to give away his distress, and therefore blow his cover, he felt rather helpless without the Argonian. Bann-Je had done plenty of infiltration missions, taking on a false identity and hiding in plain sight. Do'Ravier preferred his cloak and dagger assignments keeping him in the shadows and away from prying eyes.<p>

"Follow me." Do'Ravier heard a hiss.

Startled, Do'Ravier looked over towards the shadow cast by the overhead porch and saw two yellow eyes barely visible in the darkness. Recognizing them to belong to Bann-Je, the Khajiit silently padded over on his bare paws and likewise slipped into the shadows.

Now this was more of his cup of tea.

"What's going on, why aren't you watching the container of poison?" Do'Ravier asked quietly.

"I was camouflaged in the shadows. Someone came in and took the whole bottle. It did not look like one of the other hired servants." Bann-Je replied, leading the Khajiit.

"I don't see him." Do'Ravier murmured, peek over where he imagined Bann-Je's shoulder to be and squinting his reflective eyes.

"I'm following the scent of the poison. I did not want the man to think he was being followed." Bann-Je explained.

"Understood." Do'Ravier whispered, still feeling lost.

He was a battlemage, for Akatosh's sake, not an assassin.

The Khajiit felt himself bump up against Bann-Je who had abruptly, and silently stopped. It was all Do'Ravier could do not to make a noise. For one, Bann-Je did not have the smoothest skin and two, Do'Ravier did find himself caught by surprise.

"What now?" Do'Ravier demanded grumpily.

"Over there." Bann-Je muttered.

The Argonian's sense of smell indicated that whoever carried the bottle of poison had ventured inside a gated enclosure within the Budielle estate. Unfortunately, the enclosure was currently being guarded. From the looks of things, they did not seem to be the standard hired sword either.

The other guards of the estate wore a simple full armor of steel and closed helmets. The plate itself did not look thick but you could mistake them for what they were, armed guards. This one particular guard looked liked something different altogether.

"Judging by the robes, the glint of something shiny even in the shadows, usually indicating an enchantment, and that they are not wearing a full suit of armor, I say that's a spell sword. Or a battle mage. Either way, I'm willing to bet that enchantment she has is being used to detect any unwanted guests who might come in invisibly under magic." Bann-Je whispered.

"A Wood Elf too, so she probably knows what she's doing. Confounded Wood Elves." Do'Ravier grumbled, alluding to a long standing rivalry between Wood Elves and Khajiits.

"I don't think she's spotted us yet, we're probably out of range of her magics. Still...we're going to need help...Get Sibylla. Tell her we need a distraction." Bann-Je ordered.

"Are you sure?" Do'Ravier asked nervously.

"She sees a servant come to her and she'll tell us we're not where were suppose to be. Even then, I bet servants know not to come this far so we'll already be in trouble. Guest, however, don't know that. Go, Do'Ravier." Bann-Je asserted.

Truth be told, they were probably running out of time.

Minutes later, Do'Ravier returned practically leading a slightly tipsy Sibylla. Bann-Je glanced once at the Nord woman and then shot an accusatory glare at Do'Ravier. The Khajiit only shrugged helplessly in reply. Sibylla was blissfully unaware of the non-verbal exchange between the two.

"S-so, what's wrong...guys?" Sibylla slurred.

"She is useless, why didn't you get Claudia instead?" Bann-Je hissed at Do'Ravier.

"One, _you_told me to get her, two, this one cannot find Claudia." Do'Ravier snapped back, dropping into his accent as he often did when he was frustrated.

"Hey, I'm not useless. I'm holding this mead a lot better than you two could." Sibylla retorted blearily.

"You'll have to do. Sibylla, do you think you could distract that guard over there?" Bann-Je instructed, realizing he had no other option.

"No problem." Sibylla snickered, cracking her knuckles.

"Sibylla, we need to do this without force. Causing a scene will only draw attention. Find a way to distract her just long enough for us to get past her." Bann-Je scolded.

"Hmmmgggmmphhh..." Sibylla grumbled, clearly disapproving of the parameters but nonetheless trying to come up with a solution.

"Do you think you could do that?" Do'Ravier asked, cautiously.

Without saying a word, Sibylla abruptly and boldly stepped forward, walking a confident path towards the guard.

"Dear Stendarr, what is she doing?" Do'Ravier blathered quietly, surprised by the sudden action.

"I don't know, but Divines preserve us." Bann-Je replied.

The two watched the Nord woman sauntered, as best as her dulled senses allowed, right up to the Wood Elf who was guarding the entrance. Sibylla seemed completely comfortable with the situation as if she had done it hundreds of times before. Do'Ravier and Bann-Je had their hearts in their throats, just barely fighting the urge to scream. It got worse once the two noticed the spell sword spot Sibylla approaching her. The Wood Elf woman was about to tell Sibylla to back away when the unexpected happened.

Before the Wood Elf could shout or even protest, Sibylla reached out, embraced the woman hard and muffled her in a lip lock.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier stared wide eyed and opened mouth.

"...Oh...my, wait- come on!" Bann-Je hissed, snapping out of his shock and dragging the flabbergasted Khajiit silently through the shadows. A few quiet steps and both of them had walked around and past the two women completely unnoticed. The Argonian and Khajiit paid no attention to the two behind them once they had passed the threshold. They had a mission to continue.

Still, it was shocking nonetheless.

* * *

><p>"So, tell me about Peryite." Claudia said, her voice barely above a threat while she put on her best inquisition face.<p>

"Is this an official questioning?" Furaldur asked, despite appearing not to be intimidated.

"Answer the question here, or I'll make sure my next question will be given to you while you're in shackles." Claudia growled.

"Peryite is the Daedra lord of order-"

"Never heard of him." Claudia interrupted, playing at being skeptical.

"His followers are not the hellions who beat other people over the head like Mephala or Mehrunes Dagon. That would not be very orderly now, would it?" Furaldur snapped back.

"Watch your attitude, I don't think you fully understand the situation you are in, Dark Elf." Claudia warned, trying to keep her verbal position.

"Very well, Vigilant. What is to be my fate?" Furaldur asked, backing down.

"You still haven't told me why you're here, and if you tell me that you're here just for the party, Akatosh help me, I'll have the torturer stretch your spine so hard you'll be as tall as a High Elf." Claudia sneered.

"Fine, if you want the truth, the Daedra Azura appeared to me, warning me that I was to be here because of a plot set in motion by Molag Bal. However, when I got here...well, I don't know what to do from here." Furaldur shrugged in defeat.

Claudia blinked. She was a bit rusty on her Daedra. Molag Bal, she remembered, was not a good Daedra. The problem was she was forgetting the details, she only recalled that he liked to break things but that description could be used for a lot of the Daedra.

"Though something tells me Azura has spoken to you too, Imperial." Furaldur charged.

It was all Claudia could do to keep her composure.

"Absolutely not." Claudia snapped.

"Suit yourself. I'm at least trying to be honest." Furaldur shrugged.

"Hardly. Azura gave you a vision to come here but no further instructions? Do you take me for a fool? What are you really here for?" Claudia pressed.

"I wish I knew. The Daedra do not always work in the ways we expect them to." the Dark Elf admitted.

* * *

><p>The Khajiit and Argonian found themselves in shadowed passageways and halls onced they made it past the guarded enclosure. Bann-Je was busy following the scent, Do'Ravier keeping close behind him. They only saw one or two shadowy figures off in the distance and by keeping still in the darkness, they were able to otherwise evade any who would see them. Nonetheless, Do'Ravier was becoming more uncomfortable the deeper the infiltrated the compound.<p>

It seemed to be going on forever. Especially at the slow and cautious rate they were creeping.

"It's getting stronger...we're almost there." Bann-Je whispered, sensing his comrade's discomfort.

Suddenly, both their eyes went wide as they saw a large procession coming towards them. Both of them flattened against the wall, deep in the shadows and squinted so that they only had a sliver for their vision lest their reflective eyes give them away. They heard the group of people walk past, some twenty of them, scarcely a stone's throw from they were huddled against the wall. Once they sensed the group had passed, Bann-Je pattered forward with renewed energy. Do'Ravier decided they were closing in on their target.

The two entered a darkened room illuminated only by two small candles and the moonlight from outside. While there eyes worked better in the dim light compared to their human counterparts, it still took awhile for them to gather in their surroundings. Both were immediately drawn to two different things in the room. Bann-Je glared at something in the corner of the room, Do'Ravier cast his gaze on a book that was between the two candles.

"We're running out of time. That group out there, they were bringing the poison." Bann-Je said darkly.

In the corner were discarded bottles of wine and the empty bottle of poison.

"And whatever it's about...it is not pretty." Do'Ravier replied, showing Bann-Je the book.

The page was inscribed with outlandish runes and eerie glyphs but the picture, marked in blood red ink, seemed very much to point towards a sinister ritual.

* * *

><p>"I have been as honest as I can be with you, woman. Are you being honest with me?" Furaldur snapped.<p>

"Watch your tone, Elf." Claudia growled.

Nonetheless, a ball of ice formed in Claudia's chest as she felt that she had somehow given away something. Had she hesitated for a moment? Darn it, she was having a hard time getting all of this together.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, hear me, hear me! I propose a toast!" a voice called somewhere out towards the courtyard. Instinctively, Claudia looked over to see the Noble Budielle was standing at the center of a overhead porch, arms raised high to gather everyone's attention. Claudia was about to step forward when she remembered Furaldur.

Looking over, she saw that he had disappeared.

Claudia balled her first and ground her teeth, silently seething that she had made such a basic mistake. The woman abruptly had to put on her diplomatic face when a fancy dressed servant handed her a glass of wine. Budielle was going to be proposing a toast so she had to play the part, not that of an angry Vigilant blowing her lead.

Budielle was speaking again.

"Gather round, gather round! I hope you are all enjoying this evening, but first, I believe we should be welcoming the new guest to our city, our esteemed Thalmor allies. May the peace continue between our people!" Budielle called, motioning over to where Delamar was standing.

The Thalmor nodded his head in proud acknowledgment.

Budielle raised his glass and opened his mouth to continue.

"And so, to you fair people of Wayrest, I-"

"Wait, wait!" a heavily accented voice called out.

A Khajiit barged and bumped right into the middle of the crowd without a shred of grace. Once enough people seemed to be paying attention to him and rather than Budielle, the Khajiit raised an empty bottle aloft.

"This one seems to have found a bottle with a rather nasty skull and cross bones symbol on it. It's empty. Probably not good if this accidentally got into anyone's drink, no?" the Khajiit called.

Wide eyed upon recognizing Do'Ravier, Claudia immediately and discreetly emptied her wine glass into the nearby bushes.

Enraged and thrown off, Budielle hesitated a moment before gathering himself.

"Guards, guards! Arrest this upstart for his tasteless prank!" the noble shouted.

Armed soldiers immediately started approaching from the peripherals of the party. Do'Ravier looked around, noting where each of them were before raising his paws into the air and then violently bringing them back down.

Telekinetic magics furiously latched onto their armor and slammed the guards onto the floor, dazed and stunned but more importantly, driving their weapons out of their reach. Judging himself momentarily safe, Do'Ravier produced the sinister book he and Bann-Je found before pointing an accusatory finger at Budielle. His voice no longer held the accent.

"The Vigilant of Stendarr have found you!" Do'Ravier shouted.

His eyes blazing, Budielle fumingly decided he was caught. Budielle was a proud man and this ritual was only suppose to go one way. There was no way it could work now, not with those fools too concerned to drink the wine. Besides, what was the point now?

"You are all fools! Do you think any peace can be had between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion? Yes, you were all to be a sacrifice, an acceptable loss and maybe then Boethiah, the Prince of plots would have considered my petition to overthrow those contemptible Thalmor!" Budielle roared.

Delamar dropped his glass, his hand shaking in rage.

"But no, you're just going to continue to live your delusion that the peace will hold, go pray to your Divines when the blood is being shed again, at least the Daedra get things done!" Budielle shouted.

Suddenly, Wayrest guards and knights were arriving within the compound, Archon Tacitus at their head.

"On order of the captain of the watch, the king of High Rock and the authority of the Vigilants of Stendarr, surrender yourself Budielle and no one will be harmed." Archon Tacitus announced,

A bleary Sibylla was mastering the ability to stand in place right behind the Archon, having summoned them earlier. She had found the energy, and concentration, to rush back to a waiting messenger outside the estate. All that mattered after that was leading them to the right place.

Gazing angrily down at the guards and the Archon, Budielle reached over to a nearby table and raised a glass of wine to his lips.

"NO!" Do'Ravier shouted.

Like an unstoppable shadow, Bann-Je was pushing others aside from deep in the crowd, storming his way over to the front of the porch, knowing that it would take too much time to take the side stairs. Undeterred, the Argonian launched himself with his powerful legs and grabbed onto the columns, hauling himself up towards the floor Budielle was standing on.

Defiant, the noble had already drained the glass. His face immediately turned purple, his lips steadily darkening in blue as he coughed and gasped. The dying man was coughing violently over the railing before his legs gave out under him and he collapsed upon the railing.

Halfway up, Bann-Je stopped in his tracks, realizing it was futile to hurry at this point. He noticed a trail of blood starting to rain down from the ceiling, blood darkened by the poison, the last symptom of the deadly venom.


	10. Chapter 10

_When High Elves tell you not to play with fire_

_They really want you to not play with fire_

_This is generally lost on Dark Elves_

* * *

><p>Things went back to normal for a few days. Bann-Je took to cleaning around the cathedral. The brooms in the various supply closets were arranged in sets of threes, as well as bars of soaps. Rags were viciously folded and voraciously organized. Maybe it was his way of coping with the offering plates being constantly in a state of disarray since it was getting towards a holy day and visitors were being extra generous. A diligently kept cathedral was probably better than one with a reputation of a priest snapping the necks of the pious just because they did not have the sense of organization he had.<p>

With the cathedral being busy, Claudia found herself too tied up with managing the details that she had little time for other things. Papers had to be sorted, manifests had to be reviewed and approved. She felt like she was just rushing from one event to the next. She quietly counted it a blessing. Everyone was too busy to get in trouble, that included the people on her team. If for some reason they were causing havoc, well, it must not have been terrible enough for anyone to get a hold of her.

Do'Ravier was busy too. He still was not given free reign to experiment with the alchemy ingredients like he used to, the cathedral was nonetheless getting an influx of orders. Busy season meant more of everything, and whether they were healing potions or poultices of various sorts, the Khajiit was called upon to concoct them. Granted, he was only able to under the stern gaze of another priest. If he was not doing that, he was sent to conduct more research in the library. The priests were getting more questions with all the visitors and some needed help on their sermons.

Sibylla was taking it the worst.

When she wasn't dealing with inane questions of the petty sort, she really did NOT care about the visitor's courtship lives nor did she care to give advice on them, she had to handle questions of the theological sort. They were often hard questions. Sibylla was not exactly diligent in her textbook studying so she often winged it. She rationalized it away by blaming the Archon for not assigning Do'Ravier or some other bookish priest at her post instead.

After a long day of listening to questions, both stupid and terrifying, Sibylla found herself frequenting the local tavern at increasing levels. Honestly, she just could not understand why people could be worried about petty things, such as two people getting all torn up just because someone else worships one Divine differently while other people were soul searching and angry at the Divines because their parents abandoned them as a child or their entire family was butchered alive by roving bandits.

Thank Stendarr for Mead.

The Nord woman kept her unseeing gaze straight forward, staring at nothing in particular while her half closed eyes radiated an exhausted patience. She had had her fill of people for today. The mead did little to sooth her mood, in fact, she was wondering if it was only making her more ill-tempered. She was halfway through this tankard. Now was time to contemplate if she was going to need another one.

"Fancy seeing you here. A drink of mead as usual?" a slightly accented voice asked.

Sibylla glanced over to see a tired if content looking Do'Ravier helping himself up on the stool next to her.

"Hmm." Sibylla only grunted in response, taking another sip of the liquor.

"That's number three, huh? Must have been a busy day." Do'Ravier observed, waving to the Breton bartender to show he wanted to order something.

Sibylla glanced down and saw that the bartender had left the two empty mugs she had finished. The woman grumbled disapprovingly. She was not keeping count so why should he? She started leaning more towards getting a fourth now.

"This one would like a mug of Elsweyr Cactus tea, please." Do'Ravier ordered while laying the proper payment on the table before glancing back over at his friend.

Claudia still did not directly look at him.

"Bad day, huh?" Do'Ravier commented.

"Mhmm." Sibylla replied. After you hear three stories of people struggling because they lost a loved one, the last thing you want to hear is the story of a young child asking why her parents abused her, or hearing that she still missed them after they passed and left her orphaned. All those just went down in the morning.

"Still, you think you should slow down on the amber stuff?" the Khajiit offered cautiously, pointing at the empty tankards.

"I'm fine, Do'Ravier." Sibylla grumbled, brows furrowing in annoyance.

"Okay, okay." the Khajiit defended, paws in the air.

"Bartender, I'll have another." Sibylla called, placing the empty tankard in front of her.

The Breton, a shrewd looking man with discerning eyes, paused a moment before resuming his duties, presumably taking care of each order at a time.

Do'Ravier let out a soothed sigh as he sipped the warm, aromatic tea. It reminded him the Elsweyr sands and the smell of the saltrice patties. For a moment, he missed home. There was nothing quite like the feeling of the warm sand under bare paws during sunset after a long day.

The Khajiit's reminiscing came to a crashing halt when he heard Sibylla talking irritably next to him. Do'Ravier perked his ears up a bit, unashamedly swiveling towards her. Sure, they said eavesdropping was rude but it wasn't like anyone was going to notice in this busy tavern.

Sibylla started sounding more irate, the man she was talking to seemed oblivious, even encouraged by her growing temper.

Do'Ravier was having a hard time figuring out what was going on. Truthfully, it had more to do with the fact that he wanted to pay more attention to his tea. This was the only place he could find it, it was not cheap and he enjoyed savoring the various flavors and spices in it. He came here to relax, not deal with whatever petty disturbances that might occur with his friends.

His ears clearly picked out the sound of bone colliding under the sound of tearing flesh when Sibylla drove her fist into the man's face.

"I'm a priestess, not a common street wench!" Sibylla shouted way too loudly.

"Divines confound it." Do'Ravier groaned, draining the tea as fast as he could since he feared he would not be able to savor it in the next few minutes.

"Sibylla, calm down!" the bartender scolded.

"This man makes advances on me, says things no woman should hear and you're telling _me _to calm down?" Sibylla snarled, turning red.

"I'm telling you to calm down because you beat him to the floor!" The bartender shouted.

Sibylla was too busy cooking up a response to notice the man she just punch pick himself up and was equally unprepared for him to return the favor.

Sibylla landed literally in Do'Ravier's arms which were resting on the counter. He was doing his best to remain still in the hope he would go unnoticed. This plan clearly failed. Sibylla's eyes rolled around in her head for a moment before she looked up at him, anger dangerously flashing on her countenance.

"You better help me, flea bag." Sibylla snarled before standing up again and launching herself at the lecherous man, fists flying.

"Why...?" Do'Ravier groaned, face pawing as the tavern drowned in the roar of the growing brawl.

Whatever hope he had of avoiding it crashed when someone stepped on his tail and then yanked him off the stool. Perhaps it was one of the idiot's friends, maybe it was a drunk patron, it could have been anyone. Either way, the attacker found out why Khajiit have a natural advantage in hand to hand combat that day.

Khajiit have very strong, sharp, retractable claws.

They actually weren't doing bad for awhile. Sure, it was brutal and chaotic but for a brief moment, Sibylla and Do'Ravier were actually in the moment, back to back, fighting off any who came at them. Sibylla giving blow for blow with the plain, old, balled fist. They were well calloused and hardened after years of fighting. Do'Ravier struck away with the traditional Khajiiti hand to hand technique, open palmed with claws at the ready. Through the spray of blood, beer, spit, sweat, alcohol and broken objects, anyone could see the two were actually _smiling _in the midst of the storm.

That came to a shattering halt when the Ork bouncer, having just arrived to start his shift, snatched the both of them up and promptly tossed them out the door without so much of a warning. It happened too quick that it actually took a moment for Do'Ravier to register what happened, longer for Sibylla because of her mead addled brain.

Standing up and trying to gather whatever dignity he had left, Do'Ravier dusted himself off before looking down at Sibylla who was still trying to gather her bearings. Sitting in a mess on the cobblestone, the Khajiit was not quite sure if Sibylla had registered what had happened at all.

"You owe me a cup of Elsweyr cactus tea." the Khajiit grumbled, helping the woman up.

"Sure, sure, after you help me take a walk around the block first. Claudia will have a fit if she sees me sauntering into the cathedral like this." Sibylla murmured before she hiccuped.

"The things I do for my friends." Do'Ravier grumbled, taking her arm over his shoulder.

* * *

><p>Ask him to assassinate a target, name any method, and he could do it. He could sneak into a high profile compound unarmed and inconspicuous, a thousand guards could see him and not think him a threat. The very target could see him approach and would not know his murderous intents until it was too late. He was an Argonian, the races of men and elves tended to underestimate them. He could work unarmed, because he believed an assassin that depended too much on a blade was no assassin at all. Whatever the target, whatever the situation, he knew he could accomplish the mission without hesitation.<p>

Ask him to watch a infant, however; and things started to get a little fuzzy.

Bann-Je had the infant they found a couple days ago safely secured in a special seat that literally strapped the human baby to his front. The Argonian found it very uncomfortable but he had little choice in the arrangement. Most of the cathedral staff were busy and were needed elsewhere, that included Claudia who explained she had a meeting with the inquisition agents. He was going to be around to clean up the cathedral so the task fell to him.

The child seemed comfortable enough, but Bann-Je found himself altogether preplexed about the whole situation.

"Hmph, what do I call you? You need a name and not one of these other priests and acolytes have reached a consensus. You _need _a name. How am I to address you?" Bann-Je murmured, barely above a growl. His compulsion demanded a name for the child.

He vented his frustration into dusting an urn a little more forcefully than usual.

"Skib, you will be called Skib." Bann-Je murmured.

The child did not protest.

Bann-Je meanwhile set his eyes on the offering plates. The priests had not come to collect them yet so Bann-Je decided to set about organizing what was in the receptacles. It was not in his place to collect but while he maintained the appearance of the sanctuary but by the Divines, those offerings were going to fit into his organization of reality.

"Coins to the right, gems to the upper left because they are the smallest portion but just as, if not more, valuable than the gold. Miscellaneous offerings to the bottom left. Other things go to the center, that which I am unsure of." Bann-Je murmured to Skib, explaining the inexplicable reasoning in his head.

Skib only burbled in reply.

"Must not have dust on them." Bann-Je muttered in concentration, dusting off the valuables.

Skib seemed to let out an agreeing coo.

"Good, sensible human you are." Bann-Je muttered, deciding to dust off the pews as well.

"Da, da, da!" Skib started to call.

"No, not dad. This one is an Argonian. Argonian." Bann-Je explained, his eyes still focused on his cleaning work.

"Ar'ga, Ar'ga!" Skib repeated.

"Keep practicing." Bann-Je murmured.

"What are you doing?" Claudia asked unannounced.

Bann-Je looked up to find her trying her hardest to stifle a giggle.

"Cleaning. And keeping an eye on Skib, as requested." Bann-Je shrugged, finding her inquiry ridiculous.

"Here, let me take him. Divines know, he'll be just as batty as you if he spends too much time with you." Claudia jibbed, taking the baby from the Argonian.

"And I'm sure it's a relief for both of us. Good evening, there are railings to polish." Bann-Je announced, stepping off.

"Haha, well, lets get you off to bed, little one." Claudia said to the child, carrying him off to the nursery.

"Ar'ga, Ar'ga." the baby blathered.

"And what kind of name is Skib? We're really going to have to settle on a name for you." Claudia scoffed.

Skib started fussing grumpily.

"Oh come on, you can't possibly like the name 'Skib.'" Claudia chided.

Skib giggled approvingly.

"Between Bann-Je, Sibylla and Do'Ravier, this whole city will start becoming a mad house." Claudia muttered.

Skib laughed.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Claudia had called the whole team into Do'Ravier's study room up in the library. All the information had been collected and synthesized by the inquisition team that handled the whole mess after their most recent mission. She was obligated to inform the rest of her team on the aftermath.<p>

"I don't see the reason for this, Claudia. We offed him, kept him from killing a whole bunch of people _and _prevented some sort of Daedric ritual. Couldn't we just put it behind us?" Sibylla shrugged, slouching in her chair.

"If only, but it turns out, the mission is not quite complete." Claudia informed.

Bann-Je's eye was twitching. The utterly chaotic manner in which Do'Ravier left his research was driving him mad. Still, the Argonian forced himself not to interfere with Do'Ravier's stuff. He felt like he was going to burst a vein.

"Pay attention to me." Claudia started, talking in Bann-Je's direction.

The Argonian stuck his head at her.

Claudia let out a sigh of relief and then started.

"Okay, this is what we've learned. The noble committed suicide and the inquisition believes they cannot pursue any further leads from any of the people there. The servants who delivered the poison and two mages were the only conspirators with our dead noble. Beyond that, everyone else at the party and the household were innocent, or at least we don't have enough evidence to continue holding them." Claudia explained.

"I take it we're still unsure that the case ends here?" Do'Ravier asked.

"No. The mages are adherents of Boethiah but that does not explain why a Peryite cult mage was also there. His name was Furaldur. I managed to get a confession out of him but I lost him in the scuffle. He was not detained by the guards so that man is still out there." Claudia emphasized.

"Now, I don't mean to be rude but...what can we do about that?" Sibylla asked skeptically.

"We keep our eyes open. I don't believe this particular incident is completely laid to rest. The inquisition is still investigating but chances are we're going to be at the forefront of any sinister activity here. When we're out on missions, keep an eye out for this Furaldur or any Boethiah or Peryite cultists. They could be related." Claudia warned, her eyes meeting each of theirs.

"Understand?" Claudia demanded.

All three of them nodded.

"Very well, you're all dismissed." Claudia waved them off.

All three of them got up to resume their duties, quite relieved they could get back to the familiar.

"Oh, and Sibylla?" Claudia asked, her eyes boring into the back of Sibylla's head.

"Yes, ma'am?" Sibylla returned, her eyes meeting hers.

"Be a better representative of the Eight. No one is telling you to stop frequenting the tavern but for the love of the Divines, get your act together." Claudia scolded.

"Yes, ma'am." Sibylla nodded, jaw set firmly as she swallowed her pride.

And with that, the Nord and Argonian left.

"Now, one more thing, Do'Ravier." Claudia announced as they heard the heavy wooden doors shut.

"What's that?" the Khajiit asked, climbing a ladder to get to some of the higher shelves.

"I have a question for you, about a Daedra." Claudia admitted, becoming quiet.

Do'Ravier glanced at her, glanced at the pile of papers and books on his desk on research projects and then back at her.

"Get in line." Do'Ravier muttered sarcastically.

* * *

><p>Sibylla strolled off to the the tavern. She intended to make good on her word. She did not like to be chastised, no one did, but Sibylla knew when she was in the wrong. Most of the time anyway. Make no mistake, Sibylla <em>did <em>want to argue back with Claudia. She was defiant by nature, she was even half tempted to not honor Claudia's command. Still, Sibylla had once run with a group of sellswords when she was younger. It was a brief phase but she did learn a few important lessons. Chiefly, the importance of working in a team and submitting to leadership, especially when said leadership was right.

It was still mid-morning when Sibylla entered the tavern and the company that hung out there during this time of the day was far different than the one at night. In fact, the only person who recognized her was the bartender who cast a wary glance at her as he polished up a tankard.

"Here's what I owe on my tab." Sibylla said quietly, sliding the appropriate amount across the counter to him.

The bartender stopped polishing but continued to stare, as if waiting for a snide remark.

"And this is for whatever damage was caused yesterday." Sibylla added, adding a few more coins, a decent amount by the bartender's approximation.

"Very well." the bartender murmured, pocketing the money.

Sibylla only nodded and turned to leave. She did not care to linger any longer than necessary.

"You're still welcomed here, Sibylla. Just try not to make a habit of causing fights." the bartender called.

"You'll regret that welcome." Sibylla snorted to herself.

* * *

><p>"Wait, wait, wait...run that by me one more time." Do'Ravier said, paws held out as if trying to physically back up the conversation.<p>

Claudia sighed, rolled her eyes and then prepared herself to re-tell the story.

"The mage of Peryite was a Dark Elf..." Claudia started.

"Right, right, that makes sense." Do'Ravier muttered.

"His name was Furaldur. I lost him in the chaos at the party." Claudia added.

"Right, right, go on." Do'Ravier assented.

"He said that he was there because of some 'plot set in motion by Molag Bal.' Otherwise, he seemed like he was alright. Other than the Daedra worship of course." Claudia shrugged.

The look Do'Ravier gave her was either one of great pity or dumbfounded bafflement.

"What?" Claudia demanded.

"A cultist of Peryite is there because of a plot started by Molag Bal, at a ritual to Boethiah?" Do'Ravier spelled out.

"That...seems like an accurate analysis, yes. Why do you seem so upset? It makes sense, right? Peryite is the Daedra of order, right? He could have been there to try and stop it in some sort of Daedric rivalry." Claudia suggested.

"Peryite is the Daedra of order _through pestilence and disease!_**" **Do'Ravier bit out.

Claudia left after barely listening to Do'Ravier's lecture. It had been an interesting one but she could have done without most of the details and the speculation. The basis of what Do'Ravier said was that the Daedra Peryite indeed sought order, but that order was minimzing chaos through sickness and disease. More people going about meant more causes of disorder and chaos. Peryite would allow the formation of a plague to cut the population down and minimize disorder. It was there you might see the disregard the Daedra had for life.

Claudia was mentally giving herself a tongue lashing for letting Furaldur escape, much less convince her that he was mostly benign. Still, that did not explain Azura's involvement. Furaldur had admitted her influence before she had non-verbally disclosed hers.

"_Claudia, stupid girl, how did you let yourself do that?"_Claudia silently berated herself with a wince.

She still had not told Do'Ravier about the visions see was seeing. She decided that for now that little bit of complication did not need to be disclosed. Nonetheless, it still troubled her. So far, they had no reason to suspect anything evil on the part of Azura, but that did not mean some manipulation might be involve. Even then, how many of the Daedra had been brought up? Molag Bal, Boethiah, Peryite and Azura? Was there yet another? She could not have Do'Ravier go run some tests on Oblivion or pull some research up on the personalities or personal histories of the Daedra.

All of this was enough to drive her mad.

"Miss Vivinicci, there you are." a familiar voice called out.

Claudia looked over to see Delamar approaching her. Delamar, the Thalmor representative in Wayrest.

Claudia did her best not to scowl. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was Delamar.

"Have I yet congratulated you on that successful mission, putting down that subversive dissident? All under cover right in front of my nose as well. I must say, I was almost impressed." Delamar said, almost sounding sincere.

Claudia set her jaw and watched the stiffly dressed Thalmor approaching her. The High Elf looked as arrogant as he always did and Claudia was not sure if his eyes could become any colder than they already were. What she would pay to see that elf humbled.

"No congratulations are necessary. We were just doing our job." Claudia bowed before walking off, hoping to get away from him.

"Miss Vivinicci, there is one matter I would wish to speak to you about." Delamar announced, tapping the tips of his fingers together contemptuously.

Claudia stopped dead in her tracks, plastered her best diplomatic smile she could summon, and then turned to face the Thalmor.

"Yes, Delamar?" Claudia asked patiently.

"As I might have mentioned earlier, I was interested in learning more on how your group operates. Naturally, I don't want to interfere too much in how your group operates-"

"We could just send reports to you, Delamar." Claudia interrupted.

"Nonsense. I've discussed this matter with your Archon. The next time you go on a mission, one of my aides will go with you, strictly for observation. Of course, you may use them if you find yourself over your head, but I'm sure that will not be necessary." Delamar smirked.

Claudia secretly clenched her fists. How dare he go behind her her back and then toss a chaperon at her and her team.

"Very well, Delamar. That will be satisfactory." Claudia continued smiling before leaving the Thalmor.

Still, despite the smile Claudia had half a mind to give the Archon the riot act. Why didn't he at least inform her first before Delamar? Sure, he was a busy man but that little bit of information could have been important. Besides, didn't the Thalmor have better things to do than send one of their own to babysit her team?

Claudia was about ready to kick the Archon's door open when she had a sudden realization.

There was in fact nothing the Archon could do to protest. It was no secret that the Aldmeri Dominion had the advantage over the Empire. It was no secret that the fragile peace was held on their terms. The Archon had few options left but to be the yes man for most of their requests. This was one of those requests that the Archon would have no grounds to disagree to. Claudia could try to argue and complain but in the end it would do nothing.

Claudia realized that if she wanted to get the Thalmor dog off, she would have to play it subtly. It might take time. Still, Claudia liked to think that she was a patient woman.

* * *

><p>Sibylla was in a bad mood.<p>

The Cathedral of the Eight ran numerous charity organizations and relief outlets throughout the city of Wayrest. One of those relief projects was a soup kitchen in what was probably in the roughest part of town. The dwelling places better resembled shacks or crumbling apartments fit more for animals than humans. All manner of filth, from mud, trash, decomposing foodstuff, manure and squeaking rodents coated the walkways. On top of the offending odor were the gangs of unruly children as well as more older adolescents and adults who were more concerned about mugging and stealing to a higher degree than the younger street children.

And here, Do'Ravier, Bann-Je and Sibylla were sent to this particular soup kitchen to help. Claudia was requested by the inquisitors for help so she could not attend while the Archon made it absolutely clear that this soup kitchen was in dire need of aid. Sibylla secretly wondered if there was also a hint of "protection" thrown in with that need for "help."

Still, the place was in a sorry state when the three of them arrived. The priests and acolytes had done their best to keep the place as clean as possible, which was more or less a losing war considering the environment. Even worse was that the staff seemed to be in a state of barely contained panic. The food supplies had arrived late and because of the constant rains they had been having, the wood was too soaked through to start a decent fire to cook. Only to further aggravate the problem was that none of the staff seemed to be cooperating.

And into this little circle of Oblivion, Claudia had left Sibylla the harshest command she had ever given the Nord.

"You're in charge."

Gods, Sibylla could handle a _responsibility _but she hated being _responsible _over others. She had no problem being responsible over her own hide but things got much more complicated when she had to start making decisions for others. What if she was wrong? Being wrong with just herself was no problem, she could take a punch to the nose better than most people. But what if she made a decision that got someone else punched in the nose? Divines knew most other people were not as hardy as her.

Sibylla sighed, if she was going to be in charge, she might as well start doing what she had to do.

"Bann-Je and Do'Ravier, get to the kitchens and help them out there. Do'Ravier, you do an excellent job blowing stuff up so I want you to find a way to get a roaring fire to cook the food."

"Exploding things does not do well for cooking unless you want to lick your food off the walls. Still, I'll try to think of a way to get this wet wood burning." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"Good cat. Bann-Je, the farmers donated a bunch of chickens but there's no way we'll be able to process them in time for lunch. Normally I wouldn't care if we were late but a lot of these people look like they haven't eaten a decent meal in days. Process those chickens as fast as you can." Sibylla added.

Bann-Je only nodded and the two headed straight off to the kitchen.

Sibylla meanwhile stood at the entrance of the soup kitchen. "Entrance" was a very loose definition because the soup kitchen was in fact just an alley with an abandoned apartment that served as the kitchen. The needy would line up on one side of the alley and walk out the other end, the length of the alley served as a line for which the food was given to them.

Pulling her hood over her blonde hair, Sibylla hugged herself to protect against the chill, Head Reaper securely in her arms. The locals here knew when food was usually served, Sibylla was just making sure to keep any mischief makers away. She figured the massive ax and the daring smirk she wore would be a good discouragement to any who just wanted to cause trouble.

Meanwhile in the kitchens both Do'Ravier and Bann-Je paused to stare at what seemed to be an impossible tasks set before them.

Two acolytes were hopelessly trying to set fire to a pile of wood that was terribly waterlogged. There was not even a roof over their heads, drops of rain were lightly but nonetheless pelting them from above causing the lighting of a fire to be nearly impossible. Especially with wet wood. Meanwhile, Bann-Je stared at two priestess who helplessly stared at the cages of live chickens that needed to be butchered before they could be processed into the soup. None of them had done any butchering before, much less killed a live animal.

"Is there's a butcher's apron around here?" Bann-Je asked one of the priestess.

"No sir, we've never done any butchering here before. The farmer said he ran out of time so he just delivered the chickens live." the Breton woman explained.

Bann-Je let out a pained groan in his throat.

Do'Ravier meanwhile was lecturing one of the younger acolytes.

"Run all the way to the Cathedral. Do you know where my room is? Good. Bring me all the fire salts and charcoal you can grab. You do know what those look like right? Good. Off with you, run!" Do'Ravier coached before turning to the pile of wood.

"Why do people assume that if I'm a mage, I am therefore a good pyromancer? I can send lightning fiercer than any storm but my fire spells are only so-so at best." Do'Ravier complained to Bann-Je.

"Don't complain. I'm going to be miserable for the next few hours." Bann-Je murmured, knowing exactly what he had to do.

Much to the priestess' shock, Bann-Je removed his robes until he was bare to his trousers.

"I have no choice, so deal with it. Do you have any sharp knives?" Bann-Je growled, trying to stifle the tremor of shivers starting to wrack his body.

Both women shook their heads to the negative, trying to ignore the years of honed muscle on Bann-Je's scaly flesh.

"Grrr, there is no order here. Ready yourself, it seems I'll have to do this myself." Bann-Je growled. Without another word, he conjured one of his bound blades.

Do'Ravier meanwhile placed his spear off to the side and inspected the pile of wood. It certainly seemed hopeless. Not even the inside of the pile was dry. Keeping a sustained shower of flames yielded no results either. Do'Ravier placed a paw on his forehead. This was going to be hard.

Before anyone knew it, Bann-Je was expertly dicing the heads off the chickens, draining the bodies while also trying to de-feather them. He tossed the carcass at the priestesses to finish while he went on to the next chicken, executing the head chopping faster than most people could see. By the time the bewildered priestesses returned a finished chicken to him, he quickly cut the bodies open to remove the organs before turning the finished product to a large couldron for preparation. All the while, his blade was more of an extension of his body than an actual weapon.

Bann-Je found it a gross misuse of his skills but he had no choice, even if he quietly grumbled the whole way through.

The younger acolyte had finally returned with Do'Ravier's supplies when the Khajiit had already decided on several possible answers, none of them tested. Either way, the Khajiit knew that they were running out of time. You don't ask a crowd of hungry people to wait in the rough part of town and while he, Bann-Je and Sibylla were armed, it would just be unthinkable for the Chapel to clash with the city's poor.

"Here, mister Do'Ravier." the acolyte panted, handing the mage two burlap sacks.

Do'Ravier only responded with a nod before impulsively mixing all the contents into one larger sack and shaking it up to finely combine the ingredients.

"What are you doing?" the young acolyte asked between breaths.

"Going off on a hunch. Either this will do what I hope it does...or it won't." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"What happens if it doesn't do what you want it to do?" the acolyte asked curiously.

"Well I'd hope nothing would happen, but considering my track record, I'd probably blow a new hole in this compound. We'll see." Do'Ravier said nonchalantly.

The Khajiit tossed the powder of red and black upon the wet mound of wood. Tentatively eyeing it, Do'Ravier then poured flames from his paws upon the pile. Immediately, the powder ignited.

Much to the relief of everyone involved, the mixture did not explode. Even better, the fire kept burning.

"And there we have it." Do'Ravier smiled.

Bann-Je was still busy lopping chicken heads off and handing them to the others to be processed. In all the commotion and busy work, no one noticed a very subtle change occurring. Due to the nature of bound weapons, they always carried the chance of soul trapping a creature. Usually, this does not matter if there is no soul gem to around. Alas, quietly but surely, a faint wisp of light started to pour from each chicken beheaded from the ethereal blade.

The wisps started trailing, unnoticed, towards Do'Ravier's spear.

Rain started coming down at a quicker pace. It was constant, wet and the heavier drops were sometimes painful to be felt when they landed on your head. Combined with the autumn chill and the wind and the environment was becoming unpleasant. Rain water and dust mixed to become a gritty slime that seemed to cling to everyone. It was even worse for Bann-Je who was covered in gore. The only thing going right was that Do'Ravier was able to keep the fire going. Even then, with the rain coming down, they were not allowed to grow weary on that task.

It was starting to make more than a few tempers flare.

Sibylla was growing sick of it.

Squabbles were erupting among the staff, all of it over little, petty things. Well, Sibylla thought they were petty anyway. She never really saw what the big deal over a little rain and grime was, especially after she had slogged through the gore and viscera of bandits in the middle of a Skyrim blizzard.

When the arguing hit a higher tempo when someone tripped and dropped a pot that was going to have to be re-washed, Sibylla felt a vein on her head pop up.

"Enough!" Sibylla bellowed.

Everyone grew silent and stared at her with wide eyes. Sibylla spotted some shuffling in the back and gathered that Do'Ravier and even Bann-Je were unsure of how to proceed.

"This is maddening! In a few hours we're going to go back to a nice, warm Cathedral while these people are going to suffer out here in the cold, the same way they did the night before and the night before that! For some of them, that's all they've known their whole lives! The least we could do is to give them a warm meal! The Divines taught us what is right and to show compassion, so Divines help me, you will all shape up, shut up and get this place ready to serve these people within the hour! I swear, if we don't show these people how to live right, who will? Who else is going to show any kindness to these people? Either get on board or go back to the cathedral or Akatosh help me I will send you to Divines myself!" Sibylla shouted.

Sibylla was pleased to see them immediately quiet down and start operating efficiently. She tired to ignore Do'Ravier's goofy approving smile and thumbs up.

And as Sibylla commanded, they had pots of steaming chicken soup ready along the counter within that hour. A line of the miserable and desperate looking inhabitants of the area had formed up and were being given a warm meal, probably the only proper one most of them would get that day.

Sibylla was watching all of them, Head Reaper still held close to her when she spotted three especially rough looking thugs approaching. The Nord raised one of her blonde eyebrow at first. Anyone was welcome to get a meal but they had to be orderly and not cause trouble. These three looked like they had more on their mind than just getting a meal.

"Is that what the Cathedral sends to guard their food, a priestess given only a large, shiny ax?" the center thug snickered showing a mouth full of rotten teeth.

"Right, boss, we could probably take the food and sell the ax off." the weaselly looking one added.

"Not like the priestess could fight back, isn't that right, sister?" the stockier one sneered.

Sibylla just smirked at them from under her hood, still clutching her ax as the rain poured down.

From behind, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je quietly snuck up, wondering if they should intervene. Everyone was getting nervous from what they perceived would be an impending confrontation. The cathedral staff were dishing and pouring out food quicker while the destitute hurried to disappear so their warm meal wouldn't be taken away from them.

"So, you three think you're the meanest thing in this neighborhood, don't you?" Sibylla asked, still smiling broadly at them.

"Think? We know we are, woman." the leader growled.

"Yeah, you'd like us to prove it?" the weasel added.

"Sure!" Sibylla replied excitedly.

Before anyone could react, Sibylla practically tossed her large ax at the three men as she lunged forward herself. The thugs could only watch in shock as the long handle of the weapon caught all three of them across the chest. Sibylla, at this point an unstoppable force, pounced on the ax, using her momentum to slam all three men onto the ground. Before the thugs knew it, they were on the ground with the wind knocked out of them and an extremely powerful Nord priestess applying pressure on the ax handle that was on their chests, making it hard to breathe.

"You see, boys, preying on those who can't defend themselves isn't bravery or a show of strength. Remember that. Now, if you want food, you're going to need an attitude change. If that's not the case, I'm giving you thirty seconds to get out of here." Sibylla warned despite the smile that still remained on her lips.

The thugs were gone no sooner did she release them.

When the line was gone and the food supplies used up, the staff cleaned up the utensils and closed up shop for the day. They were all soaked through, cold and many of them were tired. Still, it felt good. Of course, all of them were looking forward to a warm bath when they got back to the cathedral.

* * *

><p>That night, Do'Ravier made his way to the tavern with its familiar stone floor and rustic looking wooden walls. It was quiet compared to other times in the day or evening. The Khajiit thought maybe it had something to do with the fact that the sun had just set. Not enough people had arrived to create a cacophony of noise.<p>

Do'Ravier was not surprised to see Sibylla already there, sitting at a stool by the counter. Taking the seat next to her, the Khajiit ordered a large mug of Elsweyr cactus tea. While he waited for his drink, he pondered over something he was unsure about. He could have sworn that every time he picked up his spear, he could just barely make out what sounded like a coop of chickens squawking.

Glancing over, Do'Ravier noticed that Sibylla had already downed two tankards and was working on a third. A quick look at the bartender told him that he too was keeping a close eye on her. Neither wanted an incident like the last time the two of them were in here.

The Khajiit decided now was a good time to be a friend, even if it ran the risk of earning him a punch to the face.

"You're not thinking of another one, are you?" Do'Ravier asked Sibylla bluntly.

"Maybe." Sibylla grumbled.

"Hey, what's wrong? You sound like something is bothering you." Do'Ravier shrugged, trying to sound disarming.

"Nothing, Khajiit." Sibylla grumped.

Deciding he was already playing with fire, why not just go all out and jump right in? Do'Ravier gently slid Sibylla's tankard away from her before she could bring it to her lips again.

"You probably spend all day listening to other people's problems but that doesn't mean you're immune to them. I'd like to wager I'm a better listener than this tankard of mead is." Do'Ravier jibbed, exaggerating the action of swiveling his ears to her direction.

"You're playing with fire, cat." Sibylla warned.

"I always do. Tell me, what's going on. You got in a drunken fight here not too many days ago, when we were on that mission you got plastered and then-"

"Don't bring up what I did with that guard. I was drunk, I was not thinking straight and there is nothing attractive about it. It was disgusting." Sibylla snapped.

"Actually, I wasn't thinking that. I was more worried that you compromised us, and yourself, by being mostly out of your mind. But at this point, it doesn't take a certified healer to tell you that something is behind this self pickling via mead." Do'Ravier observed, taking a whiff of the beverage and immediately making a face at how strong it was.

"I don't want to talk about it." Sibylla grumbled.

"Well for your liver's sake at least, you should at least consider doing so." Do'Ravier insisted.

"Fine, fine! I listen to people's problems all day long. In fact, I don't know if I have one of my own-"

Do'Ravier pointed at her tankard of mead.

"Fine, other than that! Either way, after spending all morning and afternoon listening to people talk about their dying loved one, their abusive parents, the people or things they've lost, all of this mind grinding madness that no one should have to go through, I want to forget about it in the evening. And what happened today at the kitchen with all those idiots arguing. They of all people should have perspective on how lucky they are and yet I had to set them in their place. All of it is mad, none of it makes sense. Mead is the fastest way to forget it all." Sibylla huffed.

"There's nothing wrong with a glass here or there...but surely there's got to be a better way to deal with pain." Do'Ravier offered, sampling a drop of the mead from the tip of one of his claws.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end in doing so.

"This is far quicker, easier." Sibylla murmured, feeling the tip of her ears turning red.

"You could just talk to me, you know. Or Bann-Je or Claudia." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"This is my job." Sibylla muttered.

"It doesn't have to be your burden." Do'Ravier argued.

"You're thoughtful, but it's not always that easy." Sibylla said.

"We're all in this together. Just promise me you'll take better care of yourself." Do'Ravier replied quietly.

"Fine. I'll try." Sibylla replied.

Do'Ravier slid the tankard back to her.

"The Khajiiti seer Ri'vasar once said that we are all cups, character and compassion the water in us. Some of us hold more water than others but pain and hardship is the carving tool that cuts into us deeper. It hurts, but it allows us to hold more water." Do'Ravier said.

"Never heard of him." Sibylla admitted.

"Yes, he had a strange obsession with cups, hoarded them." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"So when did you become an expert at this?" Sibylla asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"This one has known loss too, back in the Elsweyr sands." Do'Ravier smiled, taking a sip of his tea.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Sibylla inquired.

"No. Sometimes, it's best to leave the corpses buried and undisturbed." Do'Ravier replied, still in the heavy accent.

* * *

><p>It was an unusually warm dusk this late into the fall season. There would only be a few more days and the grip of winter would descend upon them, heralded from the frosty lands of Skyrim to the north. Bann-Je and Do'Ravier decided to enjoy what would probably be the last pleasant evening while they waited for Claudia to return. The both of them sat on the cathedral steps, taking in the sunset.<p>

It was probably a mistake. Delamar decided to drop in on a visit.

"Good evening. I trust you two are well?" Delamar greeted. His manners may have sounded welcoming but his tone was not.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier just nodded.

"Is Miss Vivinnici here? Or is she still working with your inquisition?" Delamar further inquired.

"She is still away, yes." Do'Ravier replied.

Bann-Je maintained his stockade silence.

"I see, very well. If you see her, let her know that I will be assigning an observer to your squad just to see how you all operate. Said observer will be joining you on your next mission." Delamar announced.

"Very well." Do'Ravier nodded.

"Tell me, did you grow up in Elsweyr, Khajiit?" Delamar asked, almost curiously.

"Yes. I started my studies in Elsweyr but I completed most of it in the Imperial City, which explains my accent, or lack thereof." Do'Ravier explained.

"I see, and why did you leave Elsweyr? Were the Thalmor instituted schools not well enough for you?" Delamar sniffed.

"No, the Thalmor provide good education. Still, the Synod in the Imperial City was rather prestigious and offered a very wide range of classes." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"I see. I spent some time in Elsweyr too, believe it or not." Delamar said.

"Really? What brought you there?" Do'Ravier asked curiously.

"A rabid Khajiit was murdering some of our Justiciars and guards. Savage beast. His victims were always found nearly torn in half, entrails all over the place. The maniac was scrawling 'oppressor' on the walls or road near the victim, written in blood. The locals started calling him the 'Mad Cat.'" Delamar grumbled, a distant fire burning in his eyes.

"I take it you were trying to stop this murderer. Did you ever catch him?" Do'Ravier asked.

"No. We never did. People assume he just disappeared when the killings stop. Me, I'm not so convinced. Either way, a maniac cat needs to be taught its place." Delamar growled.

"This one apologizes for the injustices of his own people. I pray Stendarr's justice finds him." Do'Ravier replied apologetically.

"Indeed." Delamar grumbled before marching off.

Bann-Je waited till the Thalmor was out of earshot before he hissed something to Do'Ravier.

"Must you be so social with him? The less we talk with him the better." Bann-Je grumbled.

"Tell them what they want to hear, and your life is made easier. Trust me, I used to live under them." Do'Ravier replied.

* * *

><p>Bann-Je sat trying to remain as stoic as possible. Claudia had returned from the inquisition and called an immediate meeting. She had not told them any of the details yet but everyone could tell that the inquisition had apparently given her something very important. Bann-Je had each person on his team, nearly everyone in the Cathedral, observed down to the individual pores on their faces.<p>

It was part of his compulsion.

Right now Bann-Je's yellow eyes resembled those of a human, pupils round. Only when he forced his pysche, and in turn part of his body, into Squints his Eye did they turned slit like and reptilian. Either way, both were trained for sharp observation.

The pink in Claudia's eyes were a hint deeper than usual. The white of her eyes were always just ever the slightest rose color, barely noticeable if you were not paying attention. They got pinker as she got more agitated. Bann-Je had seen her under different levels of stress. Judging by how deep they had gotten, Claudia certainly had a lot to tell them but it was nothing too pressing.

Still, this was going to be important.

What did not help was that they had a guest.

The Thalmor's name was Alaviera. She wore the standard issue elven armor that most Thalmor Justiciar's wore, a greenish, light armor patterned like a protective layer of feathers. She had placed the helmet on the table to reveal that she had long, very blonde hair, almost white against her golden skin. Her eyes almost seemed to shine, the iris a bright brown. Her voice did not seem haughty like Delamar. Still, she was every bit a Thalmor even if she did not flaunt herself too much.

Bann-Je quietly shifted his gaze from Alaviera, Sibylla, Claudia and back again, running a circuit between all three of them. It was how he dealt with situations he found tense. Watch everything that threatened to explode relentlessly. Do'Ravier usually opted to ignore it when possible, hence why he was sitting there desperately trying to pretend that they were all going to get along swimmingly.

It was not working very well, judging by the faint but constant scowl on Sibylla's face.

Claudia ignored whatever subtle misgivings were going on in the room and focused on giving them her report. She had a lot to give from the inquisition. It was a decent sized load to say the least.

"Okay, first off, informants have been given the description of Furaldur as I remembered him. We did not expect much but thank the Divines, one of our informants claimed to have spotted him going north towards Skyrim. We could have gone two ways with this information. Furaldur was spotted at a major crossroad, we would not have known which specific route he was taking, only that he was headed north. We could have tried to make an educated guess ourselves or continue to let other teams handle the situation." Claudia explained, eyes falling on each of them.

"Something tells this one that recent events have changed that." Do'Ravier offered.

"Yes. A Vigilant team in Northpoint believe they have werewolves." Claudia dropped, her eyes turning hard.

You could have heard a pin drop in the room.

"Werewolves? Talk about a great way to start a panic." Do'Ravier observed.

"Dangerous, trade through the area will slow to a crawl while prices will skyrocket. People will practically bar their windows at night. Are they sure its werewolves?" Bann-Je inquired.

"I did not get many details, we'll find out when we get there. All I know is that it must have been bad enough that the Vigilant team decided to call in the experts rather than take it on themselves. Apparently, we're the experts." Claudia shrugged.

"Excuse me, but you're willing to just go in without many details? This is a matter of life and death and you're fine going in blind?" Alaviera protested, suddenly breaking her silence.

Claudia took a deep breath and grasped her diplomacy. Just because her team was used to taking these risks did not mean Alaviera knew that.

"I'd rather not do it this way, but often times we have no choice." Claudia explained.

"You're free to sit this one out, Thalmor, if you cannot stomach it." Sibylla jibbed, a smirk on her face.

"Are you questioning my bravery, Nord?" Alaviera bit back.

"No one is questioning anyone's-"

"Yes, I am in fact questioning your bravery, maybe even your ability." Sibylla cut Claudia off.

Do'Ravier and Bann-Je started to edge further and further away from the table.

"I'll have you know I have been judged more than competent by my superiors. We handle problems with much more than just raw brawn, Nord." Alaviera snapped at Sibylla.

"Oh sure, so much bravery it takes to beat a man tied to a chair just because of his beliefs." Sibylla scowled.

"Are you sympathetic to Talos worshippers then?" Alaviera demanded, eyes widening.

"No, I'm just saying you wouldn't know what a real fight was until it hacked your head clean off from that frilly thing you call armor." Sibylla retorted, voices rising.

"Ladies, enough!" Claudia shouted, fist smashing onto the table.

"We will leave early in the morning. You are all dismissed." Claudia huffed, tired of hearing them.

Looking over, she saw that Do'Ravier and Bann-Je had somehow snuck out earlier.

* * *

><p>At the Thalmor headquarters located at a secluded location just outside the city, Delamar quietly tapped his fingertips together as he listened to Alaviera's report. His features were unreadable, his eyes focused on the ceiling as he sorted through the information the younger Thalmor had given him.<p>

"That is my full report, sir. I'd suggest we find a way to get that Nord dragged in here and break her under some questioning." Alaviera said, almost venomously.

"Put your feelings aside. Work with the team as cooperatively as you can. We're here to learn from them, not drag them into questioning." Delamar sighed, not caring for Alaviera's grudge against Sibylla.

"Very well, sir. Is there anything else I should take note of while on the mission?" Alaviera asked.

"Yes. If possible, find a way to eliminate the Khajiit without drawing suspicion to yourself. It is not important, but it would certainly help us in the long run if you could do that." Delamar suggested.

"The cat? Why that cat?" Alaviera asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"Alaviera, we do well because the Empire knows so little about us. We usually don't worry too much about Khajiits because they are simpletons. Unfortunately, Do'Ravier is not only not a dunce, he is educated both under the Thalmor and the Empire. Whether he realizes it or not, he knows more about us than Empire agents. Combine that with the fact he is a battlemage and that is not something we can all too easily ignore." Delamar explained, sipping some of the tea he had next to him.

"Very well, as you say, sir." Alaviera bowed.

"Dismissed, agent." Delamar waved her away airily.

Another reason he did not mention to her was that in all honesty, he did not like Khajiits. He saw them all as mischievous rabblerousers. Also, his gut was telling him something about the mage. He learned to trust his gut a long time ago. It wouldn't surprise him if that mage was secretly spreading propaganda on the Thalmor. Khajiit were ungrateful like that.

He sipped more from his Elsweyr cactus tea. It was the only positive thing he could find from that province.


	11. Chapter 11

_To a band of assassins went a lizard named Bann-Je_

_Clumsy he was, one of no great feat_

_To hone his skill, to save his life_

_The master bid him meditate, that others would pass to death's dark night_

_In the depths of his mind came the shattering of faces_

_A dark shadow emerged, armed with all of death's graces_

_To stab, the poison, to kill, to concentrate as he aimed_

_Thus was Squints his Eye given his name_

* * *

><p>To the person on a mission, gear is important. Yet, it also reflects the personality and the person that chooses and wears it. Armor, weapons, supplies, all of it pointed to either an experienced traveler or a foolish wanderer should the final kit either be lacking or overburdening. Even then, the gear chosen points to the personality and sometimes the story of the person who carries it.<p>

Claudia had a full suit of leather armor, appropriately thick to give her protection but not bulky enough to get in her way or interfere with her archery. For added protection, a layer of chain mail covered her vitals. She could not be bothered with a helmet, she would have to take the risk. She valued her archery more and she had yet to find a helmet that did not interfere with her aim.

She carried at least two daggers, depending on how many she felt appropriate. One was always tied to her boot, the other always hidden somewhere on her person. However, the two weapons she treasured the most were given to her by her family. Her bonemold bow was a family heirloom, one they believed came all the way from Morrowind. Bonemold weapons and armor were a big deal over there and this composite bonemold bow had served her and her ancestors well. Sadly, no one knew just how it got into their hands.

Then there was the steel rapier. Claudia did not carry it often. The metal was plain but the weapon was not. Few in Tamriel had seen one, fewer knew how to use it, much less fight with or against it. Claudia was trained in its use and knew how to counter several different fighting styles while using it. It was not easy, most swords across the mainland were made to be much heavier, the technique more brutal compared to the direct if less obtuse rapier.

Sibylla's equipment was the least complicated out of all of them. Her armor was solid steel fashioned after the classic Nord smithing techniques. Many of the armor pieces sported simple but blunt ridges designed more to further enforce the armor rather than act as an ornament. Her gauntlets where fashioned to have the likeness of snarling wolves on the top of her hand. Her helmet was fully closed save for the wide spaces for her jade green eyes to peer through. In an decorative flare, steel wings parted on her helms. Practically, they served to bar weapons from striking Sibylla on her temples. Visually, it was not hard to imagine her as an angel of war with the helmet on.

Her prized possession was Head Reaper, her massive glass battle ax that stood almost a head taller than her. The metal was far from translucent but its green color readily matched with her eyes. There was not a single rough or abrupt edge on the blade, everything polished smooth save for the wide, wicked arc where the ax's killing blade was. Even the end of the shaft ended in a blunt, pointed pummel which Sibylla had learned to use in her favor.

Bann-Je, while he wore tough leather boots, did not have any sort of protection for his lower body, just simple cloth breeches. He needed stealth and full range of motion to operate to his best. It was riskier for him but he had learned to compensate. Nonetheless, his upper body was encased in a hardened leather armor, thin steel sheets covering only the most vital or sensitive areas. Even then, these sheets were covered over by another layer of leather so it was not readily noticable.

Bann-Je was a minimalist by nature and compulsion. Four thin, stout daggers were strapped to his belt, each coated in a different, exotic poison. Only he knew which dagger did what and which three were fatal with no redemption. The fourth had an antidote to it, an antidote rare to come by though he carried a vial of it somewhere on his person. In fact, he carried several anti-toxins in secret on him as well as more secret vials of poisons. Two throwing daggers were strapped to each boot, four altogether. And of course, he always had access to his bound blades which he could conjure from the ether.

Secretly, there was another dagger which he kept on his back. This one was also coated in poison but it was not a fatal one. It was only designed to make its victim quickly fall asleep, mimicking death or allowing Bann-Je to carry them off without protest. There was an antidote to it to rapidly counteract its effects. Of course, there was always the option to let the body metabolize the poison on its own which would take several hours.

Bann-Je, whether in jest or in irony, called this blade "Peace."

And then there was Do'Ravier. Long before he started donning mages' robes did he learn to love wearing such long fabric. With the right material you could keep the brutal sunlight off of you, or the biting cold out. It also didn't do a bad job of hiding the fact that he wore scale armor made of Dwarven metal. Anyone who asked where he got the armor received the same story. A desperate blacksmith came to him as his only child was dying of fever and all the other healers had failed. Realizing that the situation was desperate, Do'Ravier was left little choice but to go with a hunch and subject the patient to a double whammy of healing spells and a strong restorative potion. The treatment turned out to be excruciating but the results were definitive. The child lived and with no ill effects.

The smith, seeing the Khajiit's Dwarven spear, decided he could do the mage a favor.

The armor was made of overlapping scales, giving a balance of both protection and flexibility. The bronze amber armor was stronger than its steel counterpart which made it more valuable. Do'Ravier's feet were not humanoid, he stood naturally on the balls of his feet so the smith made metal coverings for his paws. The tips were lined with leather so the metal would not clank against the ground. Finally, perhaps as a nod to his race, the tips of the gauntlet's fingers ended in small, sharp, metal spikes fashioned in the shape of claws.

Do'Ravier just tried not to think of all the valuable Dwarven artifacts that got melted down to construct the armor.

The road to Northpoint was long, strenuous and chilly. While the landscape was nowhere close to the mountainous terrain of Skyrim, it was still rocky, pocketed with hills and valleys and the roads occasionally meandered. Also, winter was in the air while most of the trees were bare. Every now and then a strong gust would blow down from the north, reminding them that soon the snow from Skyrim would find its way down there. All of them were occasionally trying to seek more warmth from their clothes than was usually to be found.

"It's cold. Again." Bann-Je shivered, his breath practically forming clouds in the cold air.

"I wish my cloak was heavier." Do'Ravier huffed, huddling into the black, heavy cloth.

"Oh please, this is nothing. You two would not survive a trip up to Winterhold." Sibylla laughed, enjoying the chilly weather.

"There is a reason I never volunteered to go anywhere further north than Khull in Vvardenfell." Bann-Je grumbled.

"Winterhold? Nope, can't say the name ever sounded appealing to visit." Do'Ravier shook his head.

"Haha, you two better learn to deal with it. We're only halfway to Northpoint and it's only going to get colder." Sibylla chuckled.

Both Bann-Je and Do'Ravier groaned in disappointment.

"So do you allow them to maintain this banter? This lack of discipline?" Alaviera asked from the back, question directed to Claudia.

True to the Thalmor directives, Alaviera had come along for the ride. She had her full set of Elven armor. In fact, all of her equipment, armor and weapons, were of Elven make. Her shield, dagger and longsword were all Thamor issue and kept up to their high standards of maintenance.

"We're not regular military, Alaviera. Also, they know how to pay attention and live at the same time. We're not expecting hostiles and this area is not known for bandits." Claudia explained cordially.

"I see. We usually assume danger no matter how unlikely." Alaviera murmured.

"It would probably help if you didn't piss off the locals where you went." Sibylla commented.

Claudia braced herself to break up a fight but Alaviera thankfully did not rise to the Nord's challenge.

"Sibylla, be nice." Claudia scolded, settling for that instead.

Meanwhile, in the back, Bann-Je glanced at Do'Ravier.

"This is going to be a continuing problem, isn't it?" Bann-Je muttered.

"I know Sibylla is not winning us any favors, but do you honestly want to tell her to stop? Even better, do you think you can convince her?" Do'Ravier said.

"No." Bann-Je replied as they plodded along.

They continued on in silence, the only noise coming from yet another strong gust of wind blowing into their faces.

"It's cold!" Bann-Je complained.

* * *

><p>The city of Northpoint was smaller than Wayrest and had a much more rustic feel to it. Many of the roofs of the buildings were simple thatched, wooden structures, the foundations generally rough, uncut stone mortared together with a very grainy cement. Still, it was shelter and civilization. That was far better than spending a night out in the cold wilderness. The group, tired from a day's journey, had unanimously staggered into the nearest tavern to rest their feet and fill their bellies.<p>

Claudia could understand if the glances of the patrons lingered a little longer than usual when they stepped in. First off, they were all unfamiliar faces, visitors newly arrived into the city among people who had never seen them before. Second of all, Claudia had to be frank about the company she was keeping. She, Sibylla, Bann-Je and Do'Ravier, despite their armor and weapons, were all wearing traveling cloaks with hoods that were standard issue for the Vigilant of Stendarr. And they had a Thalmor in their midst. It sounded like a corny opening line to a joke. Four Vigilants of Stendarr and a Thalmor walk into a tavern...

"It's a little late and our selection has dwindled to only roast hen. I hope you visitors have no objection to that." the Breton bartender with gray eyes and short black hair apologized as they took their places in front of the bar.

"No problem at all." Claudia replied, certain she was speaking for all of them. None of the others objected.

"I'll have a tankard of Mead with my order." Sibylla added.

"Do you have any Elsweyr Cactus tea?" Do'Ravier asked excitedly.

"Sorry, Khajiit. The caravans might have it but no one here seems to order it so I don't purchase it myself." the bartender shrugged.

Do'Ravier grumbled his annoyance before tossing a coin at the man with the order to "Surprise me."

Claudia had scarcely sat down to enjoy her meal before Alaviera hit her with another question.

"Will we be meeting your contacts here?" the High Elf asked.

"No. We're to meet them at the temple here." Claudia explained, scarcely able to keep her mouth from watering from the smell of roast hen.

"Will you meet them afterwards then?" Alaviera inquired curiously.

"You're a little slave driver, aren't you?" Claudia smirked at her.

"What? No, I was just curious. I suppose it's always about getting the objective done immediately with the Thalmor." Alaviera shrugged.

"Getting onto the mission will start on its own time. Right now we are tired, hungry and I'm sure the other Vigilants may be sleeping. There's a time for everything, Alaviera." Claudia instructed before getting on with her meal.

"Understood." Alaviera nodded.

Sibylla was half tempted to make a snide remark but decided against it. Instead, she noticed a Nord bard starting to get his instruments set up. It looked like there would be entertainment tonight at the tavern. Skyrim was only a stone's throw from Northpoint. She wondered if the bard would have any good songs from her homeland. Interest rising and her meal mostly finish, the tankard of mead was the most important part anyway, Sibylla rose from her seat to stand with the growing group of people who wanted to hear.

Bann-Je was eating his meal methodically. The meat was cut into strips deliberately, slowly and systematically. He would alternate between meat and vegetables. Every third bite was interrupted with a mouthful of bread. Every fifth mouthful was to wash down the food with a drink. He had a system to this. This was in contrast with Do'Ravier who ate the greens first before voraciously attacking the hen. Soon, he was muttering to himself about it "needs more flavoring."

Bann-Je was unsure if he should have become alarmed when he noticed the mage sprinkle some salt, pepper and fire salts onto the food. He settled for sliding his stool just a few more inches away from him.

Bann-Je looked over when he saw a Breton knight take the seat on Do'Ravier's other side. Claudia and Alaviera were quietly talking to each other. If Do'Ravier noticed the newcomer, he paid more attention to the chicken he was eating.

Bann-Je was certain the Breton was a knight. The man had that air about him. His armor, expensive steel plate armor that was as well polished as it was beautifully adorned, could have practically acted as a mirror to anyone gazing into it. The man's long, black hair was greased, slick so that it easily remained combed behind his ears and falling just below his neck. His features, while kind, were also confident. Bann-Je knew the type. This was a knight who still had not been scourged through actual combat. Sure, he may have saw some actual fighting, maybe he even had knocked a bandit over the head or two, but that was not actual, brutal struggle. The knight had still not seen bare evil.

His world was still glowing with the romanticized tales of chivalry and glossy songs.

"Good day to you two sirs. I hope you are enjoying your evening. My name is Sir Gervald. I am a traveling knight here in High Rock." Sir Gervald greeted courteously.

Bann-Je only nodded, Do'Ravier simply grunted while stripping the last piece of meat off a chicken wing.

"Might I inquire, but what is the name of the Nord beauty who travels in your companionship?" Sir Gervald asked.

"Hm?" Bann-Je grunted, taken aback by the question.

"What, you mean Sibylla?" Do'Ravier asked.

The three looked over to see that Sibylla was clearly enjoying the latest song that had migrated down from Skyrim. Do'Ravier was not paying attention to all the words. It had something to do with Stormcloaks and Sovengarde and some Ulfric fellow.

"Sibylla, her name is Sibylla? The woman who wears a gray cloak over her suit of armor, the blonde with the scar across her lips and carries a large glass battle ax." Sir Gervald described discreetly.

"Yep, that's her." Do'Ravier shrugged before stuffing his snout with a bread loaf.

"Now, I don't mean to be rude or forward gentlemen, but is...well, is she betrothed to another?" Sir Gervald pressed. Youl could practically see the eagerness in his eyes.

"Her? No." Do'Ravier shook his head.

Bann-Je let out a small grunt.

"Well then, if I could trouble you for one last question but...how might I win her attention?" the knight inquired, completely encouraged now.

"Well..." Bann-Je faltered. Every other man he saw make a pass at Sibylla became very intimate with her fist squashed into their faces. While he was thinking about it, he was starting to even wonder if Sibylla was capable of romantic affection.

"This one would not bother her. We are all on a mission for Stendarr. Besides, she would not be impressed with song or flowers. Now that this one thinks about it, she'd probably be more impressed if you challenged her to a dual or something." Do'Ravier replied carelessly, finishing the last of his chicken.

"Hmm, I shall have to think about it. Thank you, good sirs." Gervald gave a small bow before walking off. With that, the knight disappeared off into the city of Northpoint.

"Do you think it was wise, telling him all that?" Bann-Je asked Do'Ravier quietly.

"Worse comes to worse, if she gets mad at him and punches him in the face, it might take some anger off of Alaviera." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"And what if she gets angry at you?" Bann-Je pressed.

"Me? How could anyone get angry with me? How else can you explain me causing two explosions in the cathedral and not be given the boot?" Do'Ravier grinned.

"Your logic is both convoluted and mildly convincing." Bann-Je murmured.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully.

* * *

><p>Sibylla woke early the next morning. Last night they had all made their way over to the Northpoint Temple and found lodgings to rest. Having dressed, Sibylla gazed at one of the stained glass windows and judged by the darkness behind it that the sun still had not begun to rise over the horizon. She found that this was the best time to pray for her.<p>

She once heard Do'Ravier lecturing someone on the fact that anyone had the right to be proud of their faith, that it need not be a source of shame. While Sibylla was sympathetic to that belief, she viewed this privacy not of one that she was fearful of what others would think, only that she found this the most comfortable for her. She believed for the reasons that she had, she was not good articulating them but she did not care. She just preferred it this way.

Maybe that was not the whole truth. Back when she was part of the sellswords group she worked with, strength and callousness were the qualities they looked for and reinforced. They did not praise brutality but they wanted strong fighters who did not show any weakness. Caution was only tolerated when trying to keep causalities down. Anything that smelled of weakness or meekness was squashed or derided.

Sibylla did not see praying for safety on the eve of battle as a sign of weakness but the sellswords had thought otherwise. Those years changed her more than the environment of her childhood did. This was one of the habits that did not die, praying in secret, but praying earnestly nonetheless.

And maybe there was one last reason.

"Divines, I ask again that you watch over me and the others..."

Sibylla opened her eyes and glanced around, verifying that she was indeed alone in these gray hours of the morning. She paused and waited, listening to make sure there was utter silence. Her voice then dropped even further, scarcely even the hint of a whisper.

"...And Talos, whenever you'd like to put those Thalmor in place, the sooner the better."

Rising from the shrine to Arkay that she knelt in front of, Sibylla got up and then left to wait for the others to wake.

Claudia had instructed them to meet for breakfast at seven that morning. The others had assumed that they would eat while the other Vigilants explained the situation they were walking into. Bann-Je wondered if it was wise to discuss grisly things over a meal but decided all of them had seen their fair share of horrors that would by all accounts prevented them from sleeping well at night. Another ghost story was unlikely to change their sleeping pattern, much less their stomach for such things while they ate.

Still, the Argonian had a slight sense of foreboding weighing in his stomach as he sat down to eat.

Sibylla had been the first to arrive at the table, followed by Bann-Je and then Alaviera. Do'Ravier was uncustomarily late this morning and his fur was still matted from sleeping but he did appear well rested nonetheless. It was then that a mousy looking Breton showed up, he had short cropped black hair and was clean shaven though Sibylla thought his ears were a tad bit too big for his head. Still, he smiled when he showed up and sat down but did not introduce himself. The others felt it was still too early in the morning to be jumping to pleasantries.

Finally, Claudia showed up with a Dark Elf right behind her. For a moment Bann-Je wondered if this was the Dark Elf Claudia had mentioned meeting at the party a few weeks back but upon seeing that the Dark Elf wore the traveling cloak of the Vigilants, he decided against it.

"I apologize for my lateness, Claudia here has made sure I did not sleep in. My name is Couran, this is my partner Jaspier. We're the two that found the werewolf victim." Couran the Dark Elf introduced plainly as he sat down at the table, Claudia next to him.

Couran, like Jaspier, also had a friendly smile, his skin just barely darker than a clear blue sky at noon. His large red eyes were certainly intimidating although they had no malice in them and his features were not as sharp as most elves. His accent was also rather pronounced.

"So what makes you so sure this was a werewolf attack?" Sibylla asked, getting right to business as she ate.

"I understand why you might be skeptical. This is not something we want to just jump at. A werewolf about is enough to cause no small amount of panic-"

"Just get to the point." Sibylla grumbled despite Claudia giving her an accusatory glare.

"Right, right. Forgive my rambling. Anyway, the victim was barely recognizable. Most of the neck was eaten away as well as well as other parts of the body. Jaspier and I had hoped it would just be a tragic case of someone getting mauled by a wild animal but all the hunters in the town had never seen such injuries as these. The Vigilant head here also was suspicious. When the hunters had met, they all remarked that the wounds looked like those caused by a great wolf...well, it didn't take long for the idea to carry on from there." Couran explained, almost sounding apologetic.

"Bann-Je and Do'Ravier have both worked with healers. Perhaps they could examine the body and give their opinion?" Claudia offered.

"By the Divines, no. The attack happened late last week. None of us know the conditions on how a werewolf attack victim might contract the disease and become a werewolf themselves but we all judged it was better to be safe than sorry. We had to burn the corpse so we wouldn't have to worry about it re-animating. Do they do that?" Couran asked nervously.

Everyone glanced around the room before the stares slowly started to fall on Do'Ravier, the one who had the reputation for spending the most time with his head in front of a book.

Do'Ravier, who had been more interested in finishing his drink, belatedly noticed they were all looking at him.

"Don't look at me, I'm not expert on this disease. I suppose anything is possible." Do'Ravier shrugged sheepishly before finishing the drink.

"Very well. Could you show us where you found the body?" Claudia inquired.

"It's just an hour or so walk north of the roads here. We'll depart when everyone has finished." Couran agreed.

Within the hour they had set off on the road. The morning air was cold although the skies promised that they would have a bright sun to light the day. No one spoke on the walk up. Save for Alaviera, their cloaks swathed their armor to further protect them from the frigid temperatures but what weighed most heavily upon them was that they were going to a place where something horrible had happened not too long ago.

No one was quite sure if there was something keeping an eye on them at this very moment.

"Jaspier and I were brought here by the guard who found the body during his morning patrol." Couran suddenly announced, pointing to a spot that was just off the road. The place Couran highlighted was a shallow ditch, cold and bare now that the winter temperatures had killed off the vegetation.

"You said you involved the help of some hunters. Did they find anything to help you track down where the killer might have gone off?" Claudia asked as everyone looked to him.

"No. We searched but there was nothing." Couran shook his head apologetically.

"Are there any maps of caves and abandoned forts in this area?" Claudia followed up.

"Maybe. You'd have to talk to the lord of the city; he would know. I'm sorry, we've done all we can and it was the head of our station here that decided to call in a group more experienced than the people we had." Couran explained.

"I see." Claudia said, looking at the ground as she thought.

"The trail leads to here...and grows cold." Bann-Je commented, kneeling down on the spot of the crime while flicking his tongue to try and capture any scents.

"Also, and hopefully not related, one of the residents in the city started complaining about a...well...haunting. At their house." Couran shrugged nervously.

Jaspier shuddered, clearly not liking the idea.

"Would your group have any knowledge on that? Most of the Vigilants here in the city are new. And they described this particular haunting to be...bad." Couran said quietly.

Claudia became quiet as she weighed all her options.

"Do'Ravier, I want you to go back to the city and handle the exorcism of that house. Sibylla, you are to go with him. If you have time, try to get us some maps of the area, see if we could track down a place where someone would want to hide out around here in the wilds. Bann-Je, you're with me. We'll try to find something here the others have not." Claudia finally decided.

"Got it." Do'Ravier nodded.

"You honestly expect me to be able to punch an exorcism into silence?" Sibylla muttered, not happy with Claudia's decision.

"You'd be surprised. Still, I want you to be with him just in case this haunting is not so spectral." Claudia explained.

"And where should I go?" Alaviera asked.

"Do you have a preference?" Claudia shrugged.

Alaviera weighed her options heavily. She could go with Bann-Je and Claudia on what most likely would be a fruitless search at this point but she would learn more about Claudia's style. However, she did have orders to try and take off the cat should the opportunity present itself. She did not know how this opportunity would present itself but then again she had never gone to an exorcism.

"I'll go with Do'Ravier and Sibylla." Alaviera decided.

Sibylla blatantly scowled at the idea.

"She has that choice and we have no reason to deny her request on that. We do have to cooperate with the Thalmor." Claudia explained, seeing Sibylla's reaction.

"She'd just get in the way! What does she know about an exorcism?" Sibylla demanded.

"Do you know anything on an exorcism?" Claudia returned.

Sibylla's silent but protesting scowl was her only answer.

"So I suppose Do'Ravier has two students now. Enjoy." Claudia smirked.

* * *

><p>It took some tracking down but after an a couple hours, Do'Ravier, Sibylla and Alaviera were standing outside the house with the alleged haunting. Jaspier had been the one to show them to the place. The house did not look like much on the outside, a simple building built of logs with a stone foundation. Despite its simple exterior, it clearly had two floors and most likely there was a basement underneath.<p>

"So, what's the details behind the hauntings?" Do'Ravier asked earnestly, leaning his spear in the crook of his arm as he waited smiling.

Up until now Do'Ravier got the impression that Jaspier was the mouse-ish, shy sort but there was no way to confirm that. Turned out, Jaspier was far more awkward and skittish than Do'Ravier initially thought.

"T-t-the hauntings...w-w-w-well...p-p-people s-s-s-say they see...s-s-strange lights at n-n-n-night...t-t-terrible noises too." Jaspier sputtered quietly, just above a whisper.

"I see. Could I have a word with the owner?" Do'Ravier inquired, his voice showing that he probably felt bad for the skittish man.

"Y-y-you c-can't." Jaspier answered plainly.

"Well, why not?"

"H-h-he's dead. U-u-unless you can t-t-talk to the d-dead, y-y-you s-s-see why that m-might be a p-p-problem." Jaspier shrugged.

"How did he die and how recent?" Do'Ravier pressed.

"J-j-just t-t-three days ago. D-d-died of f-f-fright." Jaspier whispered, as if afraid a malevolent spirit might be getting ideas.

"I don't mean to sound insensitive but could you please stop that inane stammer?" Alaviera stated in annoyance.

Truth be told Sibylla was also annoyed by it too but now she just had to spite the Thalmor.

"People cannot help such things, show some common decency, Thalmor." Sibylla scolded.

"I-I-I-I'll t-t-t-try, m-m-m-miss!" Jaspier squeaked.

Do'Ravier clenched his eyes shut and sighed, realizing that Jaspier was now more frightened than ever and it was making his stammer worse.

"Don't you lecture me on manners, you brutish-"

"Excuse me!" Sibylla shrieked at Alaviera.

"Enough!" Do'Ravier shouted, his staff firing a blast of lightning into the air for emphasis.

The Khajiit got what he wanted getting the two to be quiet. Unfortunately, he also scared of Jaspier who took off like a frightened mouse. Letting out a groaning sigh, Do'Ravier was half tempted to give the two women a tongue lashing but decided against it. Instead, he took in a deep breath and calmed himself before summoning all his politeness to address the two women.

"Ladies, I would ask that you remain calm. Hauntings such as these require a subtle touch and a quiet, calm spirit. Angry spirits feed off of anger and malevolence. You do the opposite of what would come naturally to you in such-"

"Whatever, this is most likely foul play." Sibylla ignored the mage.

Without a shred of grace, Sibylla bluntly and adroitly cracked the door in two with a single swing of her ax. With a resounding boom, the two door halves broke off their hinges and were sent flying as the group was left staring into the interior of the dark house.

Do'Ravier was becoming more and more convinced he should have gone by himself.

* * *

><p>Bann-Je stared out at the vast northern High Rock heavy, ancient forests would occasionally open up into small meadows that were really more rock than grass and barely deserving of the name. Flicking his serpentine tongue which he used to take in the smells around him, Bann-Je learned much from the forest. The sun was melting the evening frost and the ground smelled musty and rich from countless years of decay. The air was heavy with wood from broken bark and sap stood out strongly from the pine. Countless animals had come and gone and what little vegetation remained holding out stubbornly from the cold were already returning to the earth.<p>

But not a single scent clearly pointed him to something sinister. Truth be told, he was not sure what he was looking for. He had honestly never tracked a werewolf before. Did they smell differently from regular wolves or were the scents so similar he would not know the difference? Did such abominations even leave a trail behind them or were they so unnatural he would not be able to count on such a thing.

Bann-Je just did not know.

Growing frustrated, Bann-Je trotted up to a large fir tree before scrambling up the trunk with surprising speed. Not a single flake of bark fell from his climb, not a trace to betray him. Traversing a large branch, the Argonian made his way to yet another fir tree. He paused to look around. He and Claudia decided to separate a little but not so that they could not reach each other quickly. He spotted her some distance away. She was taking her time, gathering in the surroundings but like him, it did not appear that she was onto any specific trail.

Their werewolf had practically destroyed its victim and disappeared into the forest.

Steadying himself against the trunk with one hand and leaning on a stabilizing leg, Bann-Je continued to survey what was before them. He did not know how big a stride werewolves took. He did not know any subtle clues they might leave behind in their wake. He did not know how long it took for them to return to their natural form or if they could even do it at will. Like this werewolf, he too was trained to disappear after a kill but now he had met something that just pulled a stunt just as good as he could.

It bothered him. Few creatures and people in Tamriel were as good as he. What if the creature was not even trained? Bann-Je shuddered at the thought that this monster pulled it off by accident or just naturally. A naturally _good _predator? That was suppose to be his job.

His tongue flicked out again, trying to gather in a scent that he could not find, looking for something he did not know. They were suppose to be the experts and he could tell they knew next to nothing.

And for the first time in a very long time, he started to feel uneasy about this mission.

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier was doing his best to remain calm, trying not to grow frustrated with how Sibylla and Alaviera were acting. Emphasizing the need for serenity, Do'Ravier strolled into the darkened building and took a seat in the main living room that was in front of them, making himself comfortable.<p>

Gathering in their surroundings, it was clear no one had been living there for a few days. While everything was in order, dust was beginning to settle on the unused surfaces and despite the daylight outside, it was rather dim inside. Do'Ravier noticed a lack of rugs on the floor but that could have just been the taste of the previous occupant. The mage wish he could have learned more before he scared off Jaspier but what was done was done.

Leaning back in the chair, Do'Ravier let out a comfortable sigh, closed his eyes and started to silently pray.

"You should probably tell us how we're going to attack this." Alaviera said outloud.

Do'Ravier held up a finger to show he was not done praying yet.

They waited in silence, no one talking while the awkwardness of the quiet startle to sink in. In fact, Sibylla started to feel that maybe there was indeed something foreboding about this place. She tried to squash such thoughts. She was letting the situation and the cowardice of Jaspier get to her. She was willing to bet that when this was all over there were going to find a more natural answer to this.

Right?

"We are going to wait." Do'Ravier replied suddenly, having finished praying.

"Wait?" Alaviera asked skeptically.

"Sure. Wait and observe." the Khajiit shrugged.

"What are we waiting for?" Sibylla inquired.

"Oh something...haunt-y-ish?" Do'Ravier murmured.

"That's our plan?" Alaviera scowled.

"Well, I don't have much other information to go on. If there's something angry in here and it's still angry, well, it might decide to pay us a visit, it might not. I haven't exactly done that many exorcisms and from what I read each are different." Do'Ravier explained.

"Just how many have you done?" Sibylla asked, realizing that she had never heard him talk of these things.

"Oh, well, there was that one crypt back in Elsweyr but that turned out to be just some angry, reanimated skeletons. Never figured out why they decided to wake up again. Fortunately, judging by how rotted their teeth were and their poor bone density, I thought they were skooma addicts in life. Maybe they just wanted moon sugar again." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"And that's it?" Alaviera asked skeptically, not liking his resume of experience.

"Well, there was going to be this house that was supposedly haunted in the Cyrodil countryside but an angry, petrified mob burned the house down before I could get there." Do'Ravier replied.

"I guess that stopped it." Sibylla smirked.

"Yes but now people complain of seeing an ethereal figure wandering around the area or sitting in the ruins of the old house. Guess ghosts can become homeless too." Do'Ravier answered.

"How long do these things usually take? I don't fancy waiting around for no reason." Alaviera grumbled.

Do'Ravier did not answer.

The two women followed his silent, concentrating gaze across the room. There, they spotted a cupboard. There was nothing significant about the cupboard, it looked like any piece of furniture someone would expect in Tamriel. Instead, what was interesting about it was that there was a lonely ceramic cup resting on top of it.

It was moving back and forth on the cupboard by an invisible force.

"Blessed Divines...that's a good trick." Sibylla said in a nervous chuckle.

"Sibylla..." Do'Ravier scolded quietly.

He wanted to stop Sibylla when she walked across the room towards the cupboard but decided that it would not amount to anything. You just couldn't stop Sibylla when she set her mind to something. The Nord opened the drawers underneath the cupboard top but saw nothing that might be manipulating the still moving cup. She waved her hands over the cup, not finding a wire or any other source of movement.

Finally, she grabbed the cup.

"It's stopped." Sibylla announced when the cup went still in her hands.

Alaviera let out a breath that she did not realize she was holding.

Do'Ravier was still sitting silently in his chair waiting for...something.

Finding the whole situation odd, Sibylla carefully let go of the cup. Nothing occurred. The cup continued to sit there placidly and no longer moved. She inspected the surface just a little longer but could find no explanation as to why it was moving a few seconds earlier.

She was just about to leave when the cup leaped up from the surface and shattered itself against her cloaked armor. The fragments flew everywhere, tearing some places of her cloak to reveal the armor underneath while cutting a thin red line across her cheek. Sibylla's cry of shock died in her throat as she touched her face. Her countenance wrinkled in anger as she saw the blood on her hands.

Alaviera, who realized she was holding her breath again, decided to take a step back. She thought maybe she would feel more comfortable standing against a wall, if she would ever feel comfortable again. However, no sooner did she lift her feet did she feel that something was wrong.

"uh...uh...w...we have a problem." Alaviera stammered.

"What?" Sibylla demanded angrily.

Both Do'Ravier and Sibylla looked over to see that Alaviera was standing in a pool of blood. It did not look like it was Alaviera's blood judging by the amount on the floor. Alaviera would have passed out if she had lost that amount. Besides, the pool of blood was clearly expanding on the floor, its reek unsettling and strong.

"Do'Ravier, what do we do?" Sibylla asked in a tone that showed she was very unsettled by the whole thing.

The Khajiit sighed and finally stood up. Making sure his spear was firmly in his grasp, he seemed to wait a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Alaviera meanwhile retreated from the puddle of red that was _still_expanding on the floor.

The Khajiit finally spoke but it was not to the women with him in the room.

"Very well, show yourself. You have our attention." Do'Ravier announced.

The door across the room violently slammed open.


	12. Chapter 12

_Claudia, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je all learned under masters and teachers_

_Sibylla was the only one of them that was self taught_

_Wielding a great ax takes more than just mere brawn _

_And swinging a great piece of metal around_

_Fortunately, Sibylla was a natural at it_

_You could ask the last person who owned Head Reaper_

_But Sibylla lost her temper and he lost his head_

* * *

><p>Claudia continued along as she carefully made her way through the forest. She had no knowledge of where Bann-Je was exactly but she had a feeling he was still close by. Besides, she had worked with him long enough to know that just because you did not see Bann-Je did not mean he was not around. Quite to the contrary, it was when you had almost convinced yourself that he had disappeared that he would show up out of nowhere again.<p>

But that was not what she was worried about. She was more concerned with the disappearing act of this werewolf. If it was a werewolf at all. Claudia could not dismiss that theory but she also could not rule out other possibilities. Right now, she had no evidence for any particular theory. All they had was a chewed up body and...nothing else.

Kneeling down to examine the dirt, Claudia reflected on how it was such a useless exercise at this point. They had wandered far from the original scene of the crime and now they were practically looking for a needle in a haystack. Oblivion, they did not even know what the needle they were looking for looked like.

Claudia felt the wind shift and suddenly noticed a foul smell in the air. She became alarmed, brushing the ends of her amber brown locks out of her eyes. Claudia stood up and looked around. That smell could have meant any number of things but none of them were good. She could tell that something was wrong.

She spotted movement up ahead. A lot of movement.

Too many to take on by herself with just her bow.

Swiftly returning her bow over her shoulder, Claudia turned on her heels and began sprinting. She knew better than to shout or cry out for help. Shouting would only encourage her pursuers and she'd rather keep her breath for running. Furthermore, she knew by now that Bann-Je could not be far off and was already concocting some sort of response. Yes, it was a leap of faith but it was one she was willing to take.

"Claudia!"

The Imperial woman looked over. Spotting movement from a tree further beyond her and to the right, Claudia changed her course towards her direction. She could hear the sound of countless feet thumping behind her and they were getting closer. She could practically hear the panting of lungs hungry for air.

Claudia never got to the tree. Instead, she saw a burst of light fly from the trunk and engulf her. Before she knew it, she was floating off the ground, tumbling higher and higher until she landed on one of the thicker branches. It was rather lacking in grace but she was glad to be off the ground and away from her attackers.

Sure enough, Bann-Je's form materialized from the trunk, showing that he had been camouflaged the whole time.

"What was that?" Claudia breathed, trying to catch her breath.

"It's called a levitation spell. It's really only taught by few mages from Morrowind but it's useful for an assassin."

"Thanks." Claudia puffed before looking down to get her first good glance at the mob that had chased her.

What she saw was not what she had been expecting.

* * *

><p>Sibylla was not a woman who was easily frightened. She had fought against enemies severely outnumbered. She had plunged headlong into opponents larger and better equipped than her. As a Vigilant of Stendarr, she had seen nightmares made manifest into physical form and she had prevailed against them. Never once had those monsters stolen a minute of her sleep after the fight.<p>

But this...provided she survived, she was certain she was going to have trouble sleeping after this. If this _thing _she was staring at had showed itself in broad daylight, yes, it would still be nightmarishly hideous but it would have been treated with morbid curiosity or revulsion. That was where the problem lay. This was not broad daylight surrounded by countless other people. They were in the dark, in a strange place, closed in, stuck in an environment already shrouded with a dark reputation.

If this _thing _had gone in the broad daylight, it would have trespassed into their world. Instead, they were in _its _world now. They were trespassing in _its _little domain. They would now have to play by _its _rules.

_It _was still standing in the doorway.

Maybe at one point the figure had been human. Just the faintest hints of its human history remained now. Key features were grotesquely out of proportion or devastated so terribly that they were nearly unrecognizable. A rotted, ratty dress draped a feminine figure whose flesh was the color of dirty smoke, more shadows than substance. Its body, if it could be called that, was emaciated, open sores festering with decay spotted its skin. Cruel traps lined with serrated teeth and fettered with heavy chains acted as a horrific shackle for its feet. One of its hands had a massive, gaping slash right through it, the other hand ended in talons that were ridiculously too long for it.

The face was the worst.

The teeth were hideously out of proportion, rows of long, dagger like fangs several inches long jutted out of the cracked, ruins lips that was its mouth. A disheveled tussle of neglected, rotted hair mercifully covered one of its eyes for its other eye was simply an empty, decayed socket from which as ghostly, faint yellow light glowed.

She was not sure how, but she somehow managed to get words out of her mouth. They came in a frightened squeak, a voice that surprised even herself. Nonetheless, she had to know.

"Do'Ravier...tell me what we're looking at." Sibylla whispered.

She was not happy when she heard a puzzled noise come out of the Khajiit's throat.

"Do'Ravier is going to take a wild stab at it...but this would appear to be a ghost." the Khajiit shrugged.

"I really don't think this is a time to be funny, fur ball." Sibylla growled out of the corner of her mouth. All of them were still staring at the malevolent apparition in front of them.

"Sorry, sorry, Do'Ravier tends to make light of the situation when he's feeling a little spooked. But really, this would probably be the ghost we're looking for." Do'Ravier whispered.

"So...so what do we do?" Alaviera sputtered, feeling her heart galloping in her chest.

The horrific creature was still standing there still as a gravestone in the empty doorway.

"Just wait and follow my lead." Do'Ravier replied.

"You're not doing anything." Sibylla whispered, never once taking her eyes off the ghost.

"That's because all we can do is wait and see. It's angry about something but you must let the ghost speak on its own time. This isn't a bandit to beat information out of and if you do try to be forceful, it will respond in kind, often with a ferocity that will overwhelm _you_." Do'Ravier explained.

It may have been just a few seconds, it may have been a full minute, either way it felt like a full eternity. No one moved, all stared at the spectre and only one of them truly did not breathe while the other three certainly felt like it.

Suddenly, the creature opened wide the gaping, horrific maw that was its jagged mouth and let out a blood curdling scream. Alaviera drew her sword and Sibylla readied her battle ax but both did nothing, noticing Do'Ravier refusing to move an inch. As soon as the creature had finished letting out its banshee wail, it stormed faster than was naturally possible away from them before the three heard the sound of abnormally heavy footsteps running down the stairs.

"Follow." Do'Ravier commanded, leading them.

Sibylla was not sure how Do'Ravier was able to move his legs so quickly after what they had just witnessed, her own felt like numb stumps of lead that did not want to move. Move she did, following behind the Khajiit as she was ordered but every fiber of her being was screaming for her to turn tail and leave. Even better, they could try to torch this place. Even more astonising was the fact that Alaviera was also following as well. Sibylla would not have minded if the Thalmor had taken off. For once, she sincerely would have understood the Thalmor leaving. This was not Alaviera's responsibility.

The three stood at the top of a descending narrow set of stairs. The temperature of the house had dropped considerably, or was that just simply in their heads? As if reading their minds, Do'Ravier let out a testing breath and they immediately noticed it frost in the air as soon as it left his mouth. The temperature had indeed dropped.

"Interesting. I've never seen that happen before." Do'Ravier observed.

"Don't you think we should call for others to help?" Sibylla asked quietly.

"Twenty spineless or green soldiers and Vigilants would be more dangerous in this situation than three experience and brave specialists. Well, doing a good job pretending to be brave anyway. That spirit made a big show of going down these stairs. I think it wants to show us something." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"That's...I find that hard to believe." Alaviera said through a strained voice.

"For once I agree with her." Sibylla added.

Do'Ravier's reflective eyes hardened in the dim shadows.

"That ghost stood there for a long time and then it screamed at us. What did it do after it screamed?" Do'Ravier asked rhetorically.

"It ran down there. If you would call that running." Alaviera said.

"Yes. All this time that thing should have attacked us. I was certain we were in for it when it screamed but I stayed my paw and it ran down those stairs. Not only do I think it wants to show us something, I'm almost thinking that was a scream for help." Do'Ravier explained.

The Khajiit marched down the stairs and opened the basement door.

* * *

><p>Every now and then, you need to take a step back away from the situation at hand and try to find humor in it. In fact, Bann-Je even found time to chuckle at it. Here he was stuck up in a tree with Claudia right next to him. Bann-Je was more focused on the fact that he was stuck up in a tree. This did not happen all that often and he was fairly certain this was a first for him. He figured this would have been more fitting for Do'Ravier. Last time he checked cats had a better perchance for getting caught in this situation.<p>

Honestly, they had been stuck up there an hour. Bann-Je had wanted to leave a long time ago but Claudia had insisted on watching how this would play itself out. The Argonian was certain Claudia was cooking up several theories in her head as they sat and waited but she absolutely refused to let him do anything. He had no choice but to sit and wait. And wait. And continue waiting.

Below them, Claudia was taking in exactly what had hounded them up there. Observing them carefully, Claudia could immediately tell that a rabid, enraged pack of wolves were snarling, snapping, howling and barking at them.

"I think we solved this mystery. They sure don't look like werewolves to me. I thought werewolves only did their thing at night." Bann-Je commented with a shrug.

"I'm not sure, Bann-Je. Something seems...off about them." Claudia murmured thoughtfully.

"Like what?" Bann-Je asked.

"Any normal pack of wolves would have left long ago by now. They've been snarling like that for the past hour. I don't see an alpha male or female, they just seem to be acting in unison. Finally, is it just me or do they seem...sick?" Claudia asked.

Bann-Je gave them another regarding look although he had thoroughly analyzed them awhile ago. Claudia was right. The whole pack seemed to have been operating like a collective where normally an alpha male would have required to maintain order, any alpha male would have been quickly selected in the wilds. Finally, _all _the wolves seemed to be suffering from something nasty. All of their eyes were bloodshot to the point that they all looked like angry, crimson strawberries. For many of them, patches of fur were missing and what skin they could see was horribly discolored in shades of decay, green, yellow or blue-ish black. Some of them had festering sores erupting for their fur. Bann-Je had originally suspected mangy but he had never seen a case of mangy that looked like this.

"Regardless, they seem way too determined to keep us holed up here. Think its time we put them out of their misery?" Bann-Je offered.

"I think we've observed enough, yes." Claudia nodded, readying her bow.

Bann-Je reached for his belt and produced a small leather flask. Readying it, he retrieved a bandana from his pockets and tied it around his snout so that his nostrils were covered.

"This is a very unique poison. It's only dangerous when inhaled and in large quantities to boot. Nonetheless, stay away from the cloud of spores you may see. Understand?" Bann-Je warned while checking the direction of the wind.

"Got it. I trust you're good handling yourself or do you need me to do anything?" Claudia asked before notching an arrow.

"You know me." Bann-Je replied with a chuckle before his form faded, blending in with the bark of the tree.

Claudia drew the arrow back and took a moment to aim. There were an awful lot of those wolves down there, snarling and yapping. She did not care to aim too much because there was no lacking of targets. Still, she was loathe to waste an arrow.

The bowstring cracked a deadly note. It was immediately answered by a shocked yelp as one wolf found itself pinned to the ground, impaled by an arrow. The rest of the pack went into an angry frenzy but no matter how much they moved, Claudia did not miss as she took carefully aimed shots, perched safely on her branch. Most of the wolves died with an arrow through their midsection though Claudia was not opposed to nailing their heads either if they lingered too long. Claudia's bonemold longbow kept singing its deadly notes and with each plucked chord another wolf died.

A group of wolves found some relative safety directly under Claudia where she found it difficult to aim, much less draw the bow to its full power. For now they were just grateful for the momentary refuge despite the bloodrage and fever ringing in their heads. Only one of them noticed an Argonian face materialize from a branch just directly overhead, a foot out of their reach.

Bann-Je cupped his hands together in front of his mouth and exhaled forcefully. A large cloud of olive green powder erupted from his hands. Most of the wolves had already inhaled a small whiff of it as it began to settle on them. Each one that did died gagging and choking as Bann-Je brushed off any excess powder from his hands.

They had been stuck up the tree for over an hour but in the space of five minutes less than half of the wolf pack remained and the survivors were already high tailing it away from them. The two waited a moment to make sure they were truly gone but in no time Claudia was already carefully navigating her way down the trunk of the tree. Bann-Je simply somersaulted off his branch and landed gracefully on the ground.

"What is the plan?" Bann-Je asked.

"Can I trust you to be safe working on your own against a pack and who knows what else?" Claudia inquired as she came to a safe landing next to the base of the tree.

"I have worked in more dangerous conditions. I can keep myself in the shadows even in broad daylight." Bann-Je replied confidently.

"Don't make me regret this then. I need you to track down that wolf pack. It's not much of a lead but its the only lead we have in this whole mess. Track them, see where they go. However, regardless of what you find I want you back at Northpoint by tomorrow afternoon to give your report on what you think. If you linger any longer, well, I'll be forced to go look for you. I should return and update the others on what we've found. Understand?" Claudia ordered.

"I understand clearly." Bann-Je nodded.

Claudia watched in bemusement as Bann-Je circled the tree three times before disappearing into the foliage after the remainder of the wolf pack.

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier opened the door of the basement and entered a realm of nightmares. Even the Khajiit, who was doing his best to remain calm and in control, had to admit that as frightening as events had been upstairs, they were nothing compared to what the three of them were seeing here in the basement.<p>

Starting from the threshold of the door, they could see a grotesque, thick trail of smeared blood that ended in a particular spot on the basement floor. Branching off from the blood trail, strange letters and bizarre scripts wrote themselves as if by an invisible hand on the ground. Ghostly chains made of thorny bones covered in rotting flesh grew, hung and then disappeared from the ceiling. Skeletal bones grasped, writhed and clawed as they grew out from the floor. Alaviera shrieked when she saw one grab at her boot but felt no pressure.

Sibylla was too speechless with fright to take the opportunity to berate her.

The shadows seemed to swirl around them and Do'Ravier felt that it seemed unnaturally dark down there. The mage cupped a swirling mass of lightning and fire in his hands, trying to provide some light but then a mass of shadows started to cloud around his paws. It was then that the Khajiit understood that whatever was the intentions of this ghost, it wanted things dark. Do'Ravier realized he did not have much of a choice anymore. It was one that he was not looking forward to enacting.

"I don't understand. If you are looking for peace, you will need to show yourself, make things clearer, spectre." Do'Ravier called.

Everything in the room suddenly became still as the grave. The skeletal hands stopped moving, the bone chains no longer rattled, even the blood on the floor seemed to freeze in place. What little light they had seemed to become bluer, not darker, bluer. Do'Ravier, as well as Sibylla and Alaviera, immediately regretted what had just transpired. They did not know why they felt it was a turn for the worst but they had little reason to think it was going to get better.

The spot where the blood trail ended seemed to grow darker as a circular pattern of frost began to materialize on its surface. An unearthly, inhumane wail began to scream within the basement walls despite no apparent source being around. No longer willing to feel that she was helpless, Alaviera lit two balls of fire from her hands, ready to cast them at a moment's notice.

They were immediately snuffed out by an invisible force.

"I hate this." Alaviera said remorsefully.

From the frozen spot on the floor, the shade they had seen with its hideous, grotesque face began to rise. Eerily emerging from the floor, the malevolent spirit let out a bone chilling, ear splitting shriek at them that did not budge.

"Do'Ravier, I think it's time we did something!" Sibylla shouted over the noise.

"Draw your weapons if you wish, but do nothing." the Khajiit instructed.

Sibylla suddenly found Head Reaper becoming hideously heavy, its weight seemingly increasing until it was heavier than any anvil.

"I...I can't-"

Sibylla clawed at the ax as it apparently dove to the floor of its own accord. No sooner did it hit the ground with a resounding clang did the frozen, skeletal hands clutch tightly around its shaft. Sibylla had a feeling she would not be retrieving it.

Alaviera had similar problems. Her sword had frozen over, stuck within its own scabbard.

"We have to turn back, our weapons are useless and we can't use our spells!" Alaviera cried.

Do'Ravier ignored both of them as well as his spear which suffered the same fate as Sibylla's great ax. Instead, he walked headlong until he was kneeling at the feet of the ghost despite it still screaming and wailing. Sibylla and Alaviera did nothing, not finding it within themselves to move. Using the taloned gauntlets his paws were encased in, Do'Ravier began to scrape and dig away at the sandy floor of the basement.

He did not have to go far before he hit a rotted cloth...and a real, skeletal hand underneath it.

"You were murdered weren't you? You wanted justice, even in death where you could not find it in life." Do'Ravier asked, starting to look up at the shade.

And suddenly, the wailing and screeching stop. The skeletal hands on the floor started to dim and fade and the frost started to melt. Sibylla was able to pry her ax off the floor before immediately voicing her question.

"How did you know?" the Nord asked breathlessly.

"We spent so much time gawking at the victim, it was harder to see the real monster who was much larger." Do'Ravier murmured as he continued to sweep the dust away from the makeshift grave.

The Khajiit pointed to the far wall further behind him and the quickly fading image of the now quiet shade. Fixed, as if being a murky still image, the shadows on the wall held two figures. A smaller, feminine figure cowered helplessly before a larger, more sinister one that brandished a terrible looking dagger.

A few minutes later Couran and Jaspier were overseeing more of the Northpoint Vigilants as they exhumed the body from the basement. Do'Ravier, Sibylla and Alaviera were taking a much needed breath in the setting sun. They had only been in the house for a few hours but it had felt like an eternity.

"Everyone knew that the last man in this house was not the best type but we all assumed his wife had just run off. It's what he told us. Foolishness. Foolishness." Couran grumbled angrily to himself.

"Did the wife tell anyone anything before she died?" Do'Ravier asked.

"I don't know. I guess not. She was not from around here, a foriegn, shy woman who kept to herself." Couran lamented.

"So, the man who died from fright in this house? Was he the killer?" Do'Ravier asked bluntly.

"Had to be. If only we had paid better attention, we could have brought him to justice." Couran grumbled.

"Asking 'what if' and saying 'if only' is one of the surest roads to self imprisoned torment." Do'Ravier reminded.

"Oh, I don't know. I think the man found justice in a way. That poor woman living her last few years in fear and torment under him. It's only fitting that her ghost do the same to him before he died." Sibylla smirked.

"I suppose..." Couran murmured.

"Have Bann-Je and Claudia returned?" Sibylla asked, sipping from a tankard of mead that she bought from the tavern.

"Yes, Claudia has returned but she's resting at the temple. You'll want to ask her about their day's adventure. It's not that much different from yours." Couran nodded.

* * *

><p>In the woods around Northpoint, the shadow that was Bann-Je tracked the pawprints left by the diseased wolf pack. They showed no signs of natural behavior, ignoring game animals nor following any understandable travel pattern. After a while the Argonian realized he was tracking them in a circle. Climbing further up the tree he had perched in to survey the land, Bann-Je started to wonder if this was going to be a dead end. Sure, it was not everyday that you ran into a pack of diseased, angry wolves but Bann-Je had to admit there were odder things in the world. Besides, a pack of malicious, fevered wolves was not the same as a werewolf, if it was even a werewolf they were in fact searching for.<p>

Climbing higher, the discouraged assassin furrowed his brows for a moment before he suddenly smiled. He started to think he had found their next lead in their investigation. There, not several miles off from where these wolves prowled were the forgotten ruins of an old castle.

Just the perfect kind of hide out for the things that liked to go bump in the night.


	13. Chapter 13

"_Do not fear the shadows, though they are your foe as much as they are your friend. __Fear what the shadows may hide, should they hide more than you."_

- Master Hlan Llethari, Morag Tong trained to Bann-Je

* * *

><p>Claudia did not understand what had gotten into Sibylla and Do'Ravier. She had warned them that Bann-Je could return at any moment and that in itself would probably mean they would have another big task ahead of them. Getting plenty of rest was implicit with such information. Instead, she just saw Sibylla idling in the temple sanctuary, reading a book despite the heaviness forming around her eyes, absolutely refusing to sleep. Do'Ravier stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, quaffing cup after cup of warm team before slumber finally took his eyes and his head quite literally crashed onto the table.<p>

Admittedly, neither of them wanted to talk about the ghost story. Alaviera refused to as well, but she spent the night at the local inn. Claudia for her part managed to sleep soundly. When she awoke the next morning, the sun was just barely climbing over the horizon and the smoky white clouds overhead painted the landscape in a pale light. Passing the sanctuary she found that Sibylla had passed out at some point in the night, sprawled out where she collapsed on the pew that she was sitting on. In the dining room, she spotted a disheveled Do'Ravier reading a book while sipping from a cup of tea. He was crushing generous amounts of a dried herb into it. Claudia suspected it was probably an energy booster. Alaviera was also present, sitting off to the side of the Khajiit though she seemed to have just been idling.

"Sleep well, Miss Vivinici?" Alaviera asked polietly as she passed.  
>"I did. Yourself?" Claudia returned.<p>

"Not really." Alaviera replied in a half groan, half murmur.

"My apologies. Is there any more tea, Do'Ravier?" Claudia asked.

The Khajiit simply grunted tiredly and motioned backwards towards the kitchens.

Claudia left them, hoping that Do'Ravier had now brewed the tea too strongly though she had little hope for that. While she was gone, Alaviera brushed the stray wisps of her platinum locks out of her eyes and looked at the Khajiit who somehow was reading a book, albeit rather slowly.

"I have a question, if you don't mind?" Alaviera announced.

"Hmbgh?" Do'Ravier grunted, his eyes half closed.

"I noticed you seem to excel at telekinetic spells and lightning. I heard that in Elsweyr, Khajiiti mages like to study local archtypes. Telekinetics and lightning are ironically a type called 'storm mages.' Care to shed some light on that topic?" Alavier asked.

"It's true. Telekinetics are used to forcefully fling objects, and in the case of Elsweyr, there is plenty of sand to be tossed to create a miniature sandstorm. The lightning is just from local tradition. But if you were to go against a single mage pummeling you with sand and lighting, you'd feel like you were going against a miniature storm." Do'Ravier explained tiredly.

"I heard there's a superstition that mages using telekinetics should never use it to move a living being, only objects." Alaviera commented.

"It's true. If we move a person, it's because we are latching onto an object that a person is wearing but never manipulating the person themselves. Just a local tradition. The belief is that magic should never be used to to clutch another being's soul like that so closely. Soul gems is one thing. It's another to use telekinetics to clutch another person's being like that." Do'Ravier explained.

"Interesting theory." Alaviera muttered with a wry smile.

Both the Khajiit and High Elf looked up when they spotted Bann-Je plodding into the room. At least, they assumed it was Bann-Je since he was the only other Argonian that could conceivably be entering this far into the building without a word. It was hard to confirm that, though. Bann-Je was covered snout to tail in mud.

"Did you have an accident?" Do'Ravier asked, staring dumbfounded at his mud covered friend.

Bann-Je's yellow eyes blinked once before answering.

"Had to keep my scent from the wolves. Mud was the best solution at the time. Tell Claudia I have returned. I must wash myself." Bann-Je announced before heading in the direction of the baths.

Alaviera, whose mouth had been parted in shock until now, finally voiced her thoughts.

"How is it that he's covered in mud and yet did not leave any footprints walking in here?" the Thalmor asked in bewilderment.

"He's an expert assassin, he can defy logic like that." Do'Ravier muttered before sipping his tea again.

* * *

><p>The group met over breakfast. Bann-Je was wearing a woollen cloak that was two sizes too big for him but he had to make do while his freshly cleaned clothes and armor dried. Some of his scales were a little raw as well, he had scrubbed hard to get the thick layer of mud off. He was enjoying the feeling of being clean, though.<p>

Couran, Jaspier and Alavier were also present as well as Do'Ravier and Sibylla who were still blinking heavily from lack of sleep. They all waited for Claudia to sit down first before they looked to Bann-Je to give his report. The Argonian paused for a moment. His throat still felt gritty from the stray mud he swallowed so he took a sip of tea first.

"Did you find anything useful?" Claudia finally demanded.

"A castle. I found a castle." Bann-Je replied.

"Must be one of the old ruins here in High Rock. Divines knows how many were made, forgotten and lost throughout the years." Couran shrugged.

"You'd think a castle would be hard to lose." Do'Ravier commented.

"Too many wars have happened in Tamriel. Too many people moving along and also too many years. It could have been a conflict long ago among local people who built that castle and then forgot about it." Couran explained.

"Regardless, I think I was able to navigate around those wolves. They were erratic in their patrol patterns, if they could be called patterns. Anyway, as much as it pains me to say it, there are no broken sections in the walls despite the fact that it has not been repaired in years. The only entrance is the front door. Otherwise, getting to it is very straightforward."

"I-i-is there a reasons this castle is s-s-so interesting?" Jaspier asked.

"We have no other lead, Jaspier. Plus, if you had seen those wolves you would be rather suspicious too that this castle might have something to do with this whole mess." Claudia said.

"And what if it proves to be an empty ruin?" Alaviera cautioned.

"Then we hit yet another dead end and no harm is done. Still, the connection seems too glaring. We'll want help from your other Vigilants here as well as some skilled guards. Even if there is nothing in that castle, we'll want to eliminate the rest of that wolf pack. Nothing good can come from letting that diseased group run wild." Claudia judged.

"So when do we hit them?" Sibylla asked, cutting to the point as usual.

"How soon can you have the men assembled as I asked?" Claudia asked, turning to Couran.

"We have some Vigilants out on patrol. Unfortunately, we can't do anything until tomorrow." the Dark Elf apologized.

"So be it, if we have no choice. Just make sure the guards are prepared for anything troublesome tonight. Tomorrow, we'll investigate that castle during the day, the time any werewolf would want to be hiding in there." Claudia announced.

"Oh, good. I'll be needing a nap." Do'Ravier replied.

A few hours later Do'Ravier was still working hard at that nap. Sibylla meanwhile was sitting outside the temple doors on its steps. Head Reaper was laid across her lap while she ran a shaped piece of malachite ore over the edge. She intended to have her weapon in top condition before she went out to face whatever might have been lurking at that forsaken castle. Truth be told, her ax could have been as dull as a plate edge but its weight and durability would have still made it dangerous. Nonetheless, she wanted to make sure her blade would be able to cut through armor like a hot knife through butter.

She heard footsteps approaching.

Sibylla looked up and behind her shoulder. It was all she could do to keep from scowling when she saw who it was. It was Alaviera. The Thalmor had removed her helmet but otherwise she still had all her armor and equipment. Alaviera sighed before sitting down next to Sibylla. In all fairness, the High Elf made sure to put a healthy if respectful distance of space between the two of them. Sibylla waited for what Alaviera would have to say.

"Is there going to be a problem between us before we go off on this mission?" Alaviera asked bluntly.

"Still planning on coming along, huh?" Sibylla smirked.

"I have been assigned to observe your group. I can't do that from here while you are out there." Alaviera replied, motioning to the general direction she figured the castle was.

"I can set my feeling aside while we're on the mission. Will _you _be a problem?" Sibylla retorted.

"I am a professional soldier of the Aldmeri Dominion-"

"There won't be any Talos worshippers for you to bound and drag away." Sibylla interrupted sarcastically.

"-I will handle myself well, Nord." Alaviera snapped.

"Very well. Then no, there should not be a problem." Sibylla replied coyly before returning to her work.

Alaviera was not convinced but she decided this was about as much resolution she was going to get. That settled, the High Elf stood once again and returned back to the temple. Only until they were on the mission would she see how things played out.

* * *

><p>Surprisingly, the waiting till the mission went much quicker than Claudia had grown used to. The others had needed rest and Couran needed to gather the require men. Claudia also had spent the time making sure her equipment was in order.<p>

And before she knew it, it was late the next morning and her team was with her following Bann-Je through the woods. Behind them was Alaviera, Couran, Jaspier and a handful of Northpoint's best guards and vigilants on hand. Claudia could only hope it would be enough. She was fully expecting worse things to be found. If all it was were those wolves then Claudia could live with overreacting. You only regret going in with not enough men, never too many.

The guards all wore their standard issue equipment though many brought extra potions for healing or other ailments that might come up. The extra vigiliants had their usual gray cloaks but many wore a steel breastplate since they were fully expecting trouble. Claudia, Bann-Je and Sibylla had left their cloaks behind to give them full range of motion. Do'Ravier always had his black battle robes on over his armor.

The woods were quiet even if sunlight filtered in down from the trees. Bann-Je moved silently but surely, leading on a direct path straight to the castle. Claudia could also tell he was moving at a fast pace. Claudia was not sure if he was moving because of a sense of urgency or if he simply wanted to make good time. She wanted to ask but the gravity of the situation forced her to remain silent. Considering she could hear the constant _flick_of Bann-Je's tongue, she figured he was keeping a diligent watch on anything that might be creeping up on them.

"There." Bann-Je pointed as they went up and over a rise.

The Argonian simply pointed out the castle in the distance. It was not far. However, the group did not have any time to gawk because Bann-Je did not stop for a moment. He only wanted them to see, not to examine. There would be plenty of time for that later. Bann-Je was keeping up the pace and the others had no choice but to keep up. For Bann-Je, the scents his tongue caught told him that the wolf pack was not around, certainly not in front of them, that was for sure. Kynareth had been gracious to them as the castle was upwind to them. It made traveling a little difficult but it also meant that the wolf pack would not get any advance wind of their scent. Instead, it would be Bann-Je would would smell them first.

At least something was going right.

They were creeping up at the castle entrance within the hour. The place looked like it had not been disturbed in ages, much less visited. The old fortification was practically part of the landscape and the woods had swallowed it long before. Trees, shrubs and all manner of vegetation had grown up against it as well as inside it. However, they could tell that it stood over a cliff side which plunged into a river below.

Unfortunately, storm clouds had gathered overhead and it was already starting to pelt down great drops of rain onto their heads. The group was already miserable, that much was certain. However, they had gotten this far and they needed to stop whatever threat might have been in there.

"So what's the plan?" Couran asked as they huddled outside the gaping hole that was the entrance to the castle.

Claudia glanced at all of those gathered before she made her decision.

"My team will take point ahead. Alaviera, stay behind us. Couran, I want you and the rest to bring up our rear. If we hit a problem, we'll call you up accordingly." Claudia decided.

The group exchanged glances, assuring each other that they all understood and that they knew what they were doing.

"W-w-what i-i-if we find the w-werewolf?" Jaspier stammered.

"Just leave that to me and my team, Jaspier." Claudia reassured. After all, that's why she and the others had left Wayrest in the first place.

"Alright, lets get this over with. I'm getting cold, wet and generally miserable." a guard announced from the rear.

"I could not agree more." Claudia nodded.

Here it was, the moment of truth, there was no turning back now. Claudia led them the whole team in. The castle opened up into a large room. The Imperial saw no doors or passageways that looked like it would lead to an underground level. Instead, there was only one large ascending set of stairs that spiraled upwards. Realizing her bow could not be effective in these close quarters, Claudia returned it to her back and drew out her rapier.

Save for cracks or open windows, there was not a lot of sources for light. The group had to wait for their eyes to adjust to the dimness and Claudia was not about to go charging into the unknown without their eyes at their best. Still, she made sure they pressed on. Still, Claudia had a bad feeling about the place. It seemed that with each step they took to climb higher, so too did the chilling weight of fear dip in their stomachs.

She had to keep pressing them on.

Claudia continued to lead them further up the winding stairs that went up the castle's central tower. The air was becoming cold and the storm overhead had turned the skies so dark it might as well have been dusk. The wind was also starting to pick up. They were at least sheltered from the rain but that was little comfort with their gear already wet and the surroundings were freezing.

The stairs led to a landing that must have been the top floor. Immediately in front of them was an open hall while to the right was an open threshold that led a semi circle balcony overlooking the river that ran far below it.

However, what immediately got her attention, and nearly made her jump, was that there was a group of people already waiting for them.

Claudia and the rest of her team, those that could see, were shocked to find others up here. All of them wore black, hooded cloaks though it was clear that some of them wore armor underneath. The hoods did a good job hiding their faces though. However, the one that stood in the center, while he also wore a dark cloak, did not wear the hood. His complexion was deathly pale while his long white hair fell to his shoulders. His hands were bony and Claudia noticed that he was feverishly ill with some sort of ailment as open sores and greenish discoloration ravished his flesh. He might have been a Breton. Once. However, there were two features that demanded her immediate attention.

His eyes were blood red while two fangs peeked out from under his top lip.

Vampire.

"We expected you. The wolves caught your scent just before you arrived. Nice try trying to be subtle. Alas, you failed." the vampire without the hood and the long white hair said, almost apologetically.

"You're connected to the wolves?" Claudia asked as she raised the point of her rapier higher, preparing to fight.

"Yes. It's no secret vampires can enthrall others, so why not wolves? They make an excellent cover up. Maul a victim so that it is easier to feast on the blood without drawing suspicion to who the real culprit is. Pity the ruse did not last forever." the vampire continued, still not even threatening.

"So you're behind that dead victim on the road." Claudia said, more of a statement than a question.

"Oh, don't act like you're so innocent. Where do you think this hellish fever and sickness came from, the one that ravages myself, my kin and the wolves? Your foul mages did this to us!" the vampire spat.

Claudia had no idea what he was talking about but there was no time to find out. They heard the howl of wolves behind them and the vampires drew their weapons. The fight was on.

Claudia and the vampire leader found themselves locked in a intense clash of blades, Claudia parrying and taking pecking stabs with her rapier when possible, otherwise dodging the swings of his ebony shortsword to avoid his attacks. The other vampires had their hands full handling Bann-Je, Sibylla and Do'Ravier. However, Claudia only had eyes for her opponenent. Everything had descended into chaos.

Couran, Jaspier and the guards doggedly fought with the lesser vampires. Couran noticed that for all them, vigilants, guards and the vampires included, all preferred one handed melee weapons. However, the similarities ended there. The battle flowed and ebbed and while a guard or vigilant could take on a vampire in single combat for a time, the vampires always started to gain the upper hand. They had to keep fighting two at a time against their enemies.

Couran noticed Jaspier. A long time before he thought Jaspier would never make it, the man was just a few bad moments short of being a nervous wreck. However, it turned out that Jaspier suffered more from a social anxiety than actual cowardice. Jaspier always looked like he was frightened by everything but Couran had never seen Jaspier break in a fight. The mousy Breton was too loyal to leave a man behind and he could still handle himself in a fight. He always looked desperate when he fought but who didn't?

Still, they needed this fight to end soon.

Do'Ravier was doing the role he knew how to do. Lightning spells where he found an opening, spear strokes when someone got too close. Sibylla was doing a wonderful job intimidating many of the vampires from overrunning them but the group found themselves being fought out onto the balcony. However, Do'Ravier noticed that they were becoming cut off from Claudia.

"Bann-Je!" Do'Ravier shouted while stunning a vampire with a bolt of lightning.

The assassin took a moment to glance at him and then followed the Khajiit's gaze while deftly avoiding his attacker.

Claudia was slowly but surely being fought down by the vampire.

Bann-Je broke off his attack. He managed to work his way around the hellstorm that was Sibylla and Head Reaper creating a dangerous kill circle. Unfortunately, he only made it three feet before the diseased wolves arrived. The foul creatures created more confusion, savagely bounding up to their targets. Bann-Je suddenly found himself needing to deal with these new nuisances as he conjured his bound blades once more.

Alaviera was holding her own on the porch when the wolves arrived. Despite the other vigilants and the extra hands they brought, there were more than enough wolves to go around. Do'Ravier was doing fine, he had even driven his spear through one of the vampires but the newly arrived snarling wolves started pushing him back further and further towards the edge of the balcony. The Khajiit must have been caught with his reserves of magic low since he only tried to fight them off with his spear, backing away until he was forced right to the very edge.

Alaviera saw her chance.

The Khajiits could keep their superstitions about using telekintetics directly on a person. There was a wind and the Khajiit had been forced into a bad position. Discreetly, one hand using her shield to keep a wolf at bay, Alaviera pushed with her other hand which still held her sword.

Do'Ravier disappeared over the balcony ledge in an instant.

Claudia could feel herself wearing down. The vampire did not tire and Claudia could slowly feel herself realizing that her adversary was now just playing with her. She needed to think of something fast. Where was the rest of her team?

"The vigiliants had nothing to do with this curse. Did you see who did this to you?" Claudia panted, just barely blocking one of the vampire's swipes.

"Don't lie to me, Imperial whore!" the vampire snarled, still keeping up the pressure.

"I'd let you live the rest of our miserable undying days in this fever but I think now we're just trying to give you mercy." Claudia snapped, steel clashing against ebony.

"It was some dark elf. The wolves came upon him in the night but he just stared at them unafraid, as if he knew. The wolves heard him say 'Take this as a blessing of Peryite" before he cast some magic spell on them. Before long, myself and the other vampires had it too. Now die!" the vampire snarled, driving the blade forward with tremendous speed.

Claudia went to parry but it felt like she was trying to stop a wall.

Claudia felt a flash of fire burn right through her midsection and everything in the world stopped save for the vampire.

"I've had enough of you." the vampire snarled in her face before she felt a sharp pain starting to pierce her neck. Claudia started to feel her strength receding, her heartbeat was already pounding in her brain. She needed to do something...

Suddenly, the vampire stopped and looked over. Somehow, Claudia had managed to bring her rapier up and had stabbed him with the point. Under normal circumstances it should not have been lethal, especially to the undead but...

"And I've had enough of you as well...the blade was sprinkled with silver shavings..." Claudia growled weakly.

The vampire tried to pull the blade out but his hands started to smoke the moment they touched the steel. The creature howled in desperation but it only lasted a second. The vampire suddenly burst into smoke and ash but by then, Claudia had already passed out.

Caught up in the battle rage, and no small amount of anger, Sibylla shouted like a woman possessed. She was not sure how many strokes it took, it could not have been more than two or three but suddenly, after Head Reaper made a few long arcs, the room suddenly went quiet. The vampires and wolves were dead, dying or, in the case of a pitifully small handful of wolves, retreating. Amazingly, she did not see any casualties among the guards or the vigilants who were already trying to catch their breaths or tend to their minor wounds. However, Sibylla then saw was Claudia lying the corner, blood slowly flowing from her neck while an ebony sword was buried hilt deep into her stomach.

"NO!" SIbylla screamed.

Everything happened all at once. Sibylla did not remember traveling the distance between where she stood and getting to Claudia's side but somehow she was there and so was Bann-Je. The Argonian was quickly checking her vital signs before he pulled Claudia's head back and poured a healing potion down her lips.

"She's in bad shape. This will only stave off death, it can't heal the magnitude of these wounds. Where is Do'Ravier?" Bann-Je demanded.

Do'Ravier, he was an accomplished healer as well as battlemage! He could fix this.

"Do'Ravier!" Sibylla bellowed, looking around.

"I-I'm sorry, Sibylla. He got cornered by two wolves...I saw him go over the balcony." Alaviera panted, still trying to catch her breath, her eyes apologetic.

Sibylla fell deathly silent, her eyes wide.

"Tend to her, I have to find him." Bann-Je said.

"No, you know more about healing and death than I do. You stay with her Bann-Je or I'll kill you myself." Sibylla snapped.

"We need to find Do'Ravier! He could still be alive." Bann-Je hissed.

"Couran!" Sibylla shouted.

The Dark Elf left the others alone as he had been tending to other minor wounds. He walked up to her breathlessly.

"What is it?" Couran asked.

"Take one other man, go to the river. Find our Khajiit. Now!" Sibylla snarled.

Sibylla would not admit it but she was certain they had already lost one of their teammates. She needed to make sure they didn't lose one more.


	14. Chapter 14

"_There are three prayers you should make before you pass death's doors._

_Pray for yourself so that you are ready to meet the Divines._

_Pray for others, those that you will leave behind._

_And praise Arkay for letting you have the gift of life."_

- Archon Seth Veranos, Imperial priest

* * *

><p>Sibylla hated this.<p>

The weather had gotten worse. The rain turned to snow and the skies became perpetually cloudy. The sun never came out. Claudia on the other hand was barely clinging to life and the healers were quite certain that there had been occasions where she had stopped breathing altogether. Bann-Je was constantly on hand to provide whatever help he could considering his limited insight on living bodies. To top it off, there was still no evidence as to what happened to Do'Ravier. The Khajiit had simply fell off the balcony and disappeared. She had sent the guards out to go look again.

"Gods, I hate this..." Sibylla murmured to herself.

Sibylla was in the sanctuary of the temple. The front of the temple and its shrine to all the Divines was in front of her. It was a lone figure meant to symbolize all of the Divines in one avatar, one symbol. She preferred that, it kept things simple. She wasn't too big on complexity. She sat in the front pew if off to the side, trying to be as relaxed as possible. It was hard. The problem was that she was the only one who did not know anything beyond a basic heal spell. Bann-Je could at least make himself useful by cleaning the instruments the healers used while trying to keep Claudia alive or even re-bandage that still grievous, ugly wound in her belly. Sibylla's hands were not deft enough to do that kind of work. All Sibylla could do was pray. Pray and wait.

Admittedly, she was terrible at those two things too.

Her prayers were simple and to the point. She'd asked Mara and Julianos for Claudia to get better. She then tried praying to Julianos to make those healers smarter and figure the problem out. She'd then probably ask Julianos to make the guards smarter so they could find Do'Ravier. At some point she even prayed to Zenithar so that everyone involved would work harder to get these problems solved.

Even she had to admit she was terrible at this, she didn't even sound priestly when she prayed.

She did not see much of Bann-Je or Claudia, who was in one of the sick rooms of the Temple. No one faulted her. Sibylla was in no position to help, she just did not have the skills and in all reality, she was a big woman and the room Claudia was in was small. She was just getting in the way and Bann-Je was too antsy to tend to any need the healers might have that he just couldn't talk with Sibylla.

At least Alaviera had sense enough not to show herself. There was no reason to blame Alaviera for this mess, even Sibylla knew that. Still, that didn't mean Sibylla would be above taking the opportunity to let her frustrations out on the Thalmor.

Sibylla heard someone enter the temple. She did not really care, it was probably just someone visiting to pay their devotions or something. She only started to pay attention when she realized it was a Breton knight who had come to visit and he sitting a respectful distance away from her. His armor was polished to a mirror sheen and his long black hair was gelled so that it always stayed smoothly behind his ears and out of his eyes. He at least kept a respectful silence. He only had a mace at his side but his eyes were at least kind when he looked at her.

"Are you well, my lady? There seems to be something amiss." the Breton said when he finally noticed her.

"I'm not." Sibylla replied flatly.

"Is there a way a humble knight might be able to lend his aid?" the armored Breton asked, sounding eager to help.

"One of my friends is most likely dead. The other is probably dying." Sibylla snapped. She regretted it, the knight didn't deserve the attitude but she was not in a good mood.

"I- you have my condolences, my lady. Who was your friend?" the knight inquired carefully.

"He was a Khajiit. Stupid furball. I didn't give him permission to go off and die." Sibylla sulked.

The knight frowned, pausing for a moment.

"I'm terribly sorry for your last, my lady. I will leave you in peace. My name is Sir Gervald. Should you need anything, seek me out." the knight announced before leaving.

Sibylla waited till he had left before she let out a scoff.

"I could probably snap him in half with just my fingers." It was a natural instinct, sizing up challenges. Almost anyone wearing armor and carrying weapons could be a possible opponent.

Sibylla continued to sit there in silence, not really able to pray anymore. Still, it was not like she had anything better to do. She could only find it in herself to sit there and stare at the shrine. It was a humbling feeling but it also made her feel helpless. That was not a good feeling.

She heard the door open again and saw the two guards she had sent. Both of them were covered in bits of snow while melting slush ran rivulets of water down their armor. Both were shivering, one had icicles hanging from his beard and Sibylla could see that their cheeks and noses had turned into a brilliant pink.

"Did you find the Khajiit?" Sibylla asked again.

The guard shook his head apologetically.

"...Thank you for trying..." Sibylla said quietly, eyes on the floor.

* * *

><p>"<em>Why are you here?" a calm voice asked, a voice that seemed to be ancient if not weighed down by the weight of the years. <em>

_Claudia looked around. It was so bright. It was if she was in a room made of pure ivory and alabaster. But some parts of it looked misty, out of focus. Was the material made of clouds then or was her vision fuzzy? Was she crying? _

"_Too much grief weighs down a body and sucks the soul dry. Why are you here?" the voice asked again, patiently and without malice. _

_Claudia looked around. _

_It was so glaring white. The brightness should have been burning her eyes and yet it did not hurt to look at them. She did not feel like talking, she could only feel water falling from her cheeks. She finally spotted the owner of the voice, a tall, stern looking man with a short, close trimmed beard and mustache whose head of hair had turned into a gray brown. He wore robes of fine linen but it was hard to see the colors. It could have been yellow or maybe it was white. It was hard to tell, everything was so bright in here. _

"_I am Arkay. I am the Divine of life-" _

"_So that means I'm dead." Claudia whimpered._

* * *

><p>Bann-Je left the room, his eyes closed, his body exhausted, his soul weary. He made his way to the kitchens and slumped to a table. His head hit the tablecloth at the moment he sat in his chair. He promised himself that he would at least grab a loaf of bread to eat but he really needed to catch a few minutes of shut eye.<p>

He heard the sound of a plate and a cup being put in front of him.

Bann-Je opened an eye to peek in front of him. He spied a simple arrangement, a loaf of bread, some cheese and some pieces of roast beef on it. A wooden cup of wine sat next to it. It was only then that he realized Sibylla had been in the room the whole time. It dawned on him that he was so tired that his usually sharp senses were starting to dull.

"You're here at an odd hour so I apologize if the leftovers are cold." Sibylla murmured.

"Mhmmghgmm..." Bann-Je groaned, though he lifted his head to bring the bread to his lips. He couldn't really taste it in his drowsy haze but his stomach was so empty he didn't care. He just wanted some weight under his ribs.

"How is she?" Sibylla asked, not hiding the worry in her voice well.

Bann-Je rubbed his forehead between bites. The pause did not help Sibylla. If he didn't look so darn pitiful she would have been tempted to strangle the answer out of him.

"She...stopped breathing again. I had to strike her chest a few more times than usual to get her breathing again. We are all...worried." Bann-Je admitted.

By "worried" he meant that some of the healers were saying maybe it was about time they just gave up. Claudia's body did not seem to want to hold the healing energies they were pouring into her anymore. However, Bann-Je was fairly certain that if he told her that, Sibylla would be filled with the overwhelming urge to go and shave off more than just the healers' beards.

The Nord said nothing except maybe frown a bit longer.

"I'm sorry I haven't really been out here. I should be thinking about you too." Bann-Je apologized, suddenly realizing the situation.

"Bann-Je, is Claudia dead yet?" Sibylla demanded.

"No, of course not." the assassin replied.

"Then you stay by her side and do everything to keep her alive. I can handle myself. Claudia is the one that needs help." Sibylla said.

The two sat in silence as Bann-Je fought the competing urges to fall asleep and feed himself.

"We've already lost Do'Ravier. We can't lose Claudia." Sibylla huffed as she left the table.

Bann-Je was rather dismayed to learn that they had already decided Do'Ravier was a lost cause.

* * *

><p>"<em>Do not make assumptions. Your life is dimming to be sure but your friends have not committed your body to my grasp yet." Arkay said. <em>

_Claudia looked at him. She immediately started to wonder if this was all a hallucination. Then again, she doubted a hallucination would tell her about her physical situation. She only remembered having a bad run in the vampire. Clearly was not all that well. _

"_Now, why are you here?" the Divine repeated. _

"_I-I was fighting a vampire. I got seperated from my friends. I paid for my mistake." Claudia admitted. _

"_I was not implying that you were guilty of anything, nor was I interested in why you came to your present circumstances. I know more about you than you know of yourself. I am asking you this so that you consider for yourself why you are here. How did you become what you are, Claudia Vivinici? Why did you become a Vigilant of Stendarr?" Arkay asked. _

_Claudia hung her head and paused. She wasn't sure what Arkay was looking for so she decided to retell the story. _

"_I was the daughter of a lesser family of nobles in the Imperial City. I was my family's only child. My father wanted a son but still was happy to have me, even if he insisted I learn archery and swordsmanship. Whatever I wanted to learn or I was interested in, my family paid the money for it." Claudia said. _

"_How does a daughter of a noble family end up serving as a humble priestess and vigilant?" Arkay inquired. _

"_I...I killed someone..." she admitted._

* * *

><p>Bann-Je had become well acquainted with the healers here at the temple, specifically the three that were working with him to save Claudia. All of them were old and were considered the most skilled healers in the area, the best that the Northpoint temple had access to and still they were not enough. Healer Purin was the most vocal of the three and if he was not the oldest, he was certainly the one with the most energy. It was he that usually spoke with Bann-Je.<p>

Bann-Je was becoming sick of this room. While it was by no means small, it was not enough to hold three healers, and assassin and one bed ridden patient for a long period of time. At this point all of them had brought chairs to sit on while they waited, hoping for a change for the better. Claudia had not woken once. They had thrown a clean robe on her while a thick band of bandages coiled around her midriff to patch the entry and exit wound of the sword. They could only hope it was enough.

"You said that the vampires had some sort of sickness when they fought and that it is clear one of them bit her." Purin said as one of the others brought another healing draught to her lips.

They all glanced at the bandage at her neck which was there to cover the wound there. It had stopped bleeding long before but they wanted to make sure it would close. It was also probably best to hide the iconic twin prick points.

"Yes, but we've hit her with several spells that cure diseases and that's standard operating procedure. What are you getting at?" Bann-Je asked.

"What if that illness has something to do with her current state?" the healer speculated.

"Does it matter? We need to keep her alive. You've hit her with all the cure disease spells you know, right?" Bann-Je demanded.

"Yes, we have." all the healers said in unision.

"Then make sure she stays alive. I'm not asking you to understand it, I don't either. We just need to keep her alive." Bann-Je asserted, his voice showing annoyance.

"We are doing what we can, Vigilant. However, you must understand, we have reached our limit." Purin admitted, apologetically but firmly.

"I understand and that is why I have not left you. But do not waiver. Let it not be said we did not give our all to keep her alive." Bann-Je replied.

Meanwhile, it had fallen to Sibylla to send a letter to Archon Tacitus explaining their delay. Unfortunately, words left her the moment that she lifted a quill and ink to parchment. How could she explain to the Archon what had happened? She was not even sure herself what was going on. Besides, the situation was in such a flux that it was very likely that whatever she wrote to the Archon would be obsolete by the time the letter got to him.

Still, she had to. It had become her responsibility.

_Archon Tacitus,_

_Unfortunate things have happened. The mission_

She did not like that one. She tossed it out and started anew.

_Archon Tacitus,_

_We were able to accomplish our mission objective. We have taken losses. Claudia is grievously wounded and we are doing everything we can to preserve her life. Do'Ravier is_

What would she say about Do'Ravier? That he fell and they could not find him? That he was missing? That they were still searching for him? She tossed that one too.

_Archon Tacitus,_

_We cleared out a den of vampires. We have taken some causalities. We are recuperating and trying to see the extent of the damage. We will update you on the matter as soon as possible._

She tossed that one out too because she realized she didn't say who had gotten hurt.

* * *

><p>"<em>I was the only daughter of a lesser noble house. They taught me archery and brought an eccentric High Elf to teach me to use the rapier because it was the only light sword I could wield effectively. The Altmer was always energetic and spoke a mile a minute but I was able to keep up with him. I was sad when he said I had completed my training and he had to return to his home in Hammerfell. My dad taught me the basics of archery and I became a natural at it. I was betrothed to a man named Marcellus. He was a...competent man and although I had no love for him, the marriage was arranged. It was suppose to bring great honor to my house and I believed maybe I would come to love him in time. <em>

_It was going so well. The wedding was to be in a month's time. My father and mother were so happy. My house stood to rise in honor. I was excited too. Marcellus was a cold man, a hard man, but he was competent and maybe I could come to love him. He was a merchant's son who ran his business well. They had weathered bad seasons and knew how to handle it when the markets went bad. There was no reason we would ever be in want. _

_One night I was by myself and he cornered me. I wanted to take the opportunity to speak with him but he did not want to talk. He...made advances on me. It was inappropriate before the marriage. He was suppose to be my husband and I was his betrothed but my family always raised me to do the right thing. I told him to stop but he insisted. I became frightened."_

_Claudia paused a moment. So many other people she knew had had wonderful arranged marriages. They had gone well. This wasn't right. This was not how it was suppose to go. However, what happened was done and she had no choice but to tell the Divine. She wiped her eyes, what little good that did since they welled up with tears again. She continued her story._

_"He was stronger than me and I was suppose to trust him but I couldn't do something wrong. I just wanted him to stop, I wanted him to let go. I tried to hit his face to get him away, to get him to his senses but he kept going. I was frightened, so frightened and he was starting to hurt me. My hands grasped something on the nearby table and I hoped something harder than my hands would snap him out of it. I struck him in the face with it. _

_It was a letter opener and in my desperation, I pierced right through his eye and into his brain. _

_My mother and father were devastated. Marcellus' family was out for blood but it would have been a disgrace to know what he had been trying to do, not that they believed it. Still, it would have looked bad to see that he had died from a woman. Justice had to be done but no one wanted the shame that would come with a trial._

_My mother and father were at a loss with grief but in the end it did not matter. We had no choice. I was sent to start a new life in the Imperial Cult, disowned from my family with no more place in our House. My talents served me well and soon I was climbing the ranks in the Vigilant of Stendarr." Claudia explained. _

"_You have answered the question but again I ask, why are you here?" Arkay asked. _

"_I wanted to bring justice to others but mercy as well. I wanted to bring justice...because of the injustice shown to me." Claudia replied. _

_The Divine nodded. _

"_You must wait with me here, Claudia. We must wait and see if you will have my leave to go or if you must come with me." Arkay the Divine of life and death said. _


	15. Chapter 15

_Those seeking counsel should consider the school of thought_

_of the priest they go to_

_Priests of Stendarr will say to live justly and compassionately_

_Those of Julianos will tell you to live wisely_

_And those of Mara will proclaim that you must show love_

_Followers of Sheogorath will just spout nonsense at you_

_But that's not what you should worry about_

_Be worried if what they said made sense_

* * *

><p>Delamar the Thalmor commander and representative of the Aldmeri Dominion to the city of Wayrest readied himself in the morning and gazed out his window. Winter was fast approaching the northern provinces. He wondered if the same thing could be said of the empires of man.<p>

He was not mistaken. Anyone with two eyes and half a functional mind could see that the Cyrodilic empire was in trouble. The Aldmeri had wrest control of Valenwood and Elsweyr away from them and Hammerfell had broken off from the empire in disgust of the White-Gold Concordate. As long as the weights held this way, it was not a matter of if the Aldmeri could bring the rest of the empire to its knees. It was a matter of when.

Delamar was not very much of a senior member within the Thalmor ranks and was not privy to all the details in the machinations of the Aldmeri regime. Yet, even he knew that the Thalmor were highly complex and thorough in their subterfuge and espionage. Utilizing the right combination of magic, superstition, political intrigue, bribery and assassinations and enough havoc could be caused to bring a province to its knees and further cripple the empire.

He had been sent to pave the way for such things here in Wayrest.

Delamar heard footsteps approaching his office and he tore his gaze away from the window. Someone knocked on his door and he gave them permission to enter. His eyes fell on one of the many messengers here at the Thalmor headquarters and for all intents and purposes he looked like just another Thalmor soldier.

"Message arrived for you sir. It was carried on a pigeon from Northpoint." the messenger announced.

"Ah, good. You are dismissed." Delamar replied as he took the message.

The door had scarcely closed when he opened the scroll to read it. He was rather annoyed at first. Alaviera had explained that the team leader Claudia had taken a grievous wound and was the cause of delay for her return. Delamar quietly thought of ordering her back immediately but then decided against it.

Still, he was pleased to hear that the Khajiit was dead.

* * *

><p>They were at a standstill. Snow would gently dust down throughout the day and had done so for every day the past week. Claudia still was not getting better. She wasn't getting worse but Sibylla wondered if that had more to do with the fact that she had three healers plus Bann-Je constantly watching her. And still she had not found what to do with herself. Originally it had been Claudia who had suggested she take on the advisor role at the Cathedral to the Eight back in Wayrest. The Temple in Northpoint was already well staffed and not looking for an intimidating battle mistress to scare off their visitors.<p>

So, Sibylla decided to take a stroll around town. It was not as if she had anything better to do and it was better than sitting around worrying about Claudia. There was only so much worrying she could do before she went mad. She just had to find something to do, something to keep her mind off of things.

Sibylla doned her heavy gray woolen cloak. It was not made to fight in but it would certainly keep the cold out. She thought briefly about visiting the tavern but then decided it was too early in the day to order some mead.

In some ways, Northpoint reminded her of her home province of Skyrim, especially now that it was winter. You could see the Nordic influences on the buildings with their stone foundations and the way the wooden walls were laid out. The people were not much different either. As she walked along she spotted an older man struggling in the cold air. He was trying to split wood, most likely to keep his house and family warm for the evening.

"Do you need help, old man?" Sibylla asked, walking up to him.

"Hm?" the elder grunted, looking up from his work.

"I know how to work an ax and I have some spare time." Sibylla continued.

"Uh, well, I don't wish to trouble you, lady." the old man sputtered.

"Nonsense. Do not worry about paying me." Sibylla insisted, practically grabbing the old ax from the man's hands. She found it rather too light and small for her tastes but if was a task and it was something to keep her preoccupied for awhile.

She splitted the first log with such force both halves flew in several feet the opposite directions of each other.

* * *

><p>Bann-Je left the temple carrying two wooden buckets. Truth be told, he was exhausted and that seemed to be his normal state of reality these past few days. He was not even sure how long it had been. It could have been several weeks for all he knew. This was the first time he had been out since the mission and the light gleaming off the snow was hurting his tired eyes.<p>

But he had wanted to leave the Temple. Much like Sibylla, as much as he cared for Claudia, he just had to get away from the situation, even if it was only for a moment. One of the temple sisters said they were going to need more water soon and Bann-Je immediately volunteered. Claudia had clung to life somehow all this time, she could survive just a short time in Bann-Je's absence.

The Argonian did not like where the nearest well to the temple sat. It was in a blind courtyard with only one entrance. His compulsiveness did not like it and not just because it forced him to step in and out of the entryway three times before entering. There was something about it that made it shady.

Or, as in the case this morning, a great spot for a person to be robbed.

Bann-Je had the misfortune to walk in at the moment three cut purses were holding a woman and her son at knifepoint. No doubt the colder weather was driving some of the more desperate people to extreme measures. The cut purses were all in rags and wore large hoods to conceal their identity. Their knives were scarcely better than letter openers but were dangerous all the same. The mother and son had probably come to draw some water but had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had dark, curly hair that fell from her hood while her son was bundle of woolen clothes. Both were gaping in shock while the mother shielded him away from the thieves.

Bann-Je had just been rude enough to intrude on the holdup. For a moment, no one said anything.

"Just stay where you are, priest. This does not concern you." one of the thieves barked, turning his attention on the lizard.

The other two criminals continued to hold their original captives at knife point and proceeded to press them for coin. They were more desperate now that they had been intruded upon by someone else.

"How about you just turn around and come back in a few more minutes, lizard." the cut purse growled at Bann-Je.

Bann-Je just stood there statute still. He blinked only once.

The cut purse could have sworn he saw the Argonian's yellow eyes change from a round pupil to a black slit.

Pails make terrible weapons but they are a great deal better than little pricks barely larger than your palm. The first cut purse found his knife knocked out of his hand with one pail while the other caught him upside his chin. The other two thieves did not have time to respond. Bann-Je flew at them and caught both with a single arc of his pails. The heavy blow sent both of them to the ground and, at least for a moment, had them dazed. The rough lesson was more than enough for the thieves and all of them scrambled to leave as soon as they got to their feet.

Breathless, the mother and son could not move, remaining still as they did not know what would come next. Bann-Je stared at them for a moment and then blinked again. If his eyes had been slit like when he attacked, they once again returned to being circular pupils. Mother and son were still there after Bann-Je had drawn the water he wanted. They watched as he walked past them once more, stepped in and out of the entranceway three times, and then left.

* * *

><p>Her vision swam, the world was disorienting and unnerving. Sounds, all of it was unclear and it made her head throb. She was able to make out a cieling but she was more numb than anything else. Whether of her own accord or simply because gravity dictated it, Claudia felt her head roll to the side and she found herself gazing up at an older man with a wrinkled face and a long white beard.<p>

"You're awake, Claudia. How are you feeling?" the old man asked.

Claudia groaned, struggling to make sense of...everything.

"Stay calm, stay calm, don't strain yourself. You took a nasty wound and you've been gone to the world the past week or so now. My name is Purin. Your friends will be notified shortly. Can you speak, Claudia?" Purin asked gently.

"Y...yes..." Claudia croaked. She did not think her voice was raw, just corroded with lack of use.

"Do you feel well?" Purin pressed.

"I'm...sore...hurt..." Claudia groaned, trying to push herself up but was gently eased back to the mattress by Purin.

"Rest. Take your time. We don't want that stomach wound of yours to re-open. Just try to get better. We'll find you some watered down wine if you feel faint."

Claudia was still dazed and it took awhile for her to realize that she had survived. It was a strange feeling. She had never been out this long, not even for an illness. Her senses were only just coming back to her. How had she gotten here? What happened? She remembered a mission, danger, sword fighting...what happened? And why was her head throbbing?

Wait, there was a dream. Or was it a dream? She was talking to someone...important. It was all fading. It was important but there was other things...

Claudia felt a sense that she should be frustrated and in some ways she was. She knew something important had happened, followed by something bad and now she could not pull herself together. The healers around her were telling her to relax, stay calm and not do anything but by the Divines she needed to make sense of the massive memory hole leading up to how she got here.

How did she get here?

Claudia's field of view swam back towards the ceiling. If the healers were talking to her again, she did not have the strength to talk back. A part of her was angry about that, like she knew that she should have been on top of the situation but nothing was working at the moment. She was suddenly very tired again. She felt something being pressed to her lips and the familiar taste of watery wine passing over her tongue. It was satisfactory and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep again.

* * *

><p>Bann-Je found himself at the counter of the Northpoint tavern. He felt like he had gotten there too fast and realized that Sibylla had practically dragged him in there. He missed his "enter three times" at the doorway ritual. He could not argue with the brandy in front of him but still, he felt a little rushed.<p>

Earlier, Purin had found both him and Sibylla at the temple and informed them that Claudia had woken up. There was no disputing that that was good news. Not only was it a positive sign, it was a major leap forward considering how everything had been going prior to today. Bann-Je was happy, cautiously so, but nonetheless happy about the news.

Sibylla had gone overboard and decided to celebrate.

"You know, you could at least try to smile a bit more, especially since we're suppose to be drinking for Claudia's health." Sibylla chided with a smile, looking over at Bann-Je as she sipped from her tankard of mead.

"Don't get me wrong, this was a good sign but-"

"No 'buts!' This is a good thing and Claudia is going to get better. This is one of the few times that I'm buying, lizard so you better enjoy it." Sibylla teased.

"I can't dispute that." Bann-Je smiled before taking another sip of his brandy.

They both looked over when someone else sat down next to them. Immediately they recognized the person to be Alaviera. They had not seen her all this time but assumed that she had been at the local lodge.

"I heard the news, one of the healers came and found me. I'm glad she made it." Alaviera nodded to them.

"Aw, you know what, I'm in a good mood and you're okay for a Thalmor. Bartender! A glass of wine for my High Elf friend here!" Sibylla ordered, sliding the appropriate amount of gold in payment.

**"**Having a change of heart or is that the amber stuff talking?" Alaviera jibbed with a raised eyebrow.

**"**Maybe a little of both. Probably the mead mostly. Enjoy it while you can, elf." Sibylla retorted.

Alaviera had to admit, this group of Vigilants weren't too bad when they were relaxing. They sat around for a few minutes in silence. Sibylla was clearly enjoying it the most but Alaviera did not see Bann-Je completely losing control. The Argonian was such a bolted case of eccentricity it would probably be bad if he did let himself go.

**"**Pity Do'Ravier could not be here." Bann-Je murmured suddenly, frowning.

**"**Yeah..." Sibylla agreed quietly.

Alaviera frowned and looked away. She had only done what she was ordered so what did that suddenly make her feel bad.

**"**Well, here's to that confounded furball named Do'Ravier. May he have plenty of potions to blow up and all the Dwemer spiders to tinker with in Khajiiti Sovengarde or wherever they go to." Sibylla declared, raising her tankard.

**"**I can drink to that." Bann-Je added.

* * *

><p>Claudia was making a rapid recovery. By the next day she was more lucid and was not drifting off as often. She even insisted on sitting up in bed unaided by the cushions despite the cautions and misgivings of Purin and the other healers. She had talked with Bann-Je and Sibylla shortly after the first time she sat up in bed. That was how she received the news of how she ended up in the state she was. Like everyone else, she was devastated when she heard the news of Do'Ravier. Everyone else had had time to come to terms with it and go through the stages of mourning. Claudia had just woken up and all of the news, practically a week and a half of her life, had been lost and she was just trying to catch up.<p>

Claudia fell into a stupor of silence. She spoke when necessary but Ban-Je and Sibylla immediately noticed that she was brooding, something they had never quite seen her do before. Bann-Je would probably help her hobble over to the kitchens when she wished. The healers wanted her to minimize her movements but Claudia was insistent and she was becoming tired of staring at the same four walls. For now, the short trips to the dining room was all she would risk and even then it did not do her much good. She couldn't eat any of the solid food yet for fear of re-opening her stomach wound. She had to make due with light soup. The constant hunger did not help her either.

It was one of those times Claudia was brooding at the table, slowly sorting through the pile of inquisition paperwork that already found her, that a revelation started to occur to her. It started simple enough. She could not believe that Do'Ravier was gone. Sibylla had been effectively blunt in explaining the situation. Do'Ravier had fallen off the castle balcony and plunged down the cliff into the swollen river below. No trace of him had been found and the guards had finally given up. They had lost more than just their battlemage, all of them were mourning a friend and Claudia realized that their group researcher would no longer be providing a quick source of random information.

Information she badly needed.

The problem was that she started to noticing something. The throbbing in her head when she first woke up was not in fact going away. It subsided, no longer becoming painful but now lingered as a small beat, as if a soft voice was quietly vocalizing a beat in her head. Sometimes it grew, sometimes it faded. As the days passed she could occasionally ignore and sometimes go hours without thinking of it.

But it was always there, beating away whenever she thought of it or paid attention to it. Sometimes it even multiplied. What was also maddening was that she felt like she should have recognized the beat, as if it were a familiar rhythm or symphony but she just could not put her finger on it.

This maddening hunger didn't help either. The watery soup or weakened wine helped a little but there was still that biting, unsatisfied craving deep in her stomach. Part of her told her that her first meal of actual solid food would make it go away. Unfortunately, a quieter, more sinister voice told her she was a fool to think that. She did not know why.

It did not hit her until Sibylla came by and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The Nord was never good with words, no matter how long she spent as a counselor at the cathedral back in Wayrest. There was no getting around that and Claudia appreciated the gesture as she squeezed Sibylla's hand with her own. Claudia smiled, as if trying to reassure Sibylla that she would be better in time.

As Sibylla walked away, Claudia realized why she knew that beat. She could hear, feel, Sibylla's heartbeat. When she focused on others she could feel theirs. She could ignore them of course, but it did not change the fact that she could practically guess where a person was just by listening for a heartbeat. **  
><strong>That would also explain the hunger. She wanted blood.

None of it made sense though. Bann-Je had assured her that they had hit her with all intensity of disease curing spells while she was gone, even slipping in a few potions while she was recuperating for good measure. Claudia also had to admit that she could not feel any fangs growing in her mouth, for that she was grateful. The thought of actually consuming blood repulsed her but that did not mean she did not have that hunger either.

Divines have mercy, was she becoming something of a hybrid creature? **  
><strong>And the one person who probably had the answer had fallen off a cliff. **  
><strong>Claudia groaned and rubbed her brows. This was far more than she wanted to deal with. She couldn't tell anyone either. Just when she thought it was awkward enough, a Vigilant of Stendarr hearing the voice of the Daedra Lord Azura, now she had to become part vampire. How would have have sounded? How would that have gone down? No, she just couldn't tell anyone about this.

* * *

><p>Claudia did not know where the next few days went. She spoke when spoken to, tried to keep Bann-Je and Sibylla in line again as they were growing restless with nothing to do. She even had to reassure Alaviera who had apologized profusely for Do'Ravier's death. Even Claudia knew that no one could be faulted for the Khajiit's death. That included herself but that did not change the fact that she still felt bad about it. She wrote to the Archon, informing him what had transpired, of when they planned to return and about Do'Ravier's demise.<p>

There was to be a memorial at Wayrest the day after they returned. **  
><strong>Even then Claudia just kind of drifted through those days. She should have been more grateful. By all accounts she should have been dead. She practically had two puncture wounds in her stomach which had finally healed though sometimes it still hurt to eat. Everything had been mechanical and Bann-Je noticed that her head seemed to hang in either perpetual shame or sadness. He and Sibylla were planning on talking to Claudia sometime after the memorial.

Claudia was just glad she didn't burst into flame when she stepped out of the temple to take the horse drawn coach that Bann-Je had arranged. So far, her theory that she only had some vampiric tendencies was holding. She could hear heartbeats when she chose to and she still felt that easily ignored craving. At least it was not getting worse.

Everything was gray and empty. Words of welcome, consolation and sympathy just went in one ear and out of the other. She saw that even Bann-Je and Sibylla were still saddened by the fact that they had lost one of their teammates. It was a fact that every Vigilant bore and carried with them as they went out to a mission. Still, it did not prepare them for when it actually happened.

She found herself simply listening through the Archon's message the next day when it was time for Do'Ravier's memorial. Even Alaviera had come to pay her respects. It was mostly the Cathedral staff who were in attendance. They had nothing to remember the Khajiit by, the battlemage had taken his full armor and even his spear with him when he disappeared. Instead, all they had was just a simple, roughly carved bust that someone had commissioned a stonecutter to do. It was rough, that figure could have been any other Khajiit. Claudia hated it.

When the service was over, Sibylla followed the others leaving to get some fresh air outside of the Cathedral. While the snow had come to Northpoint it still had not traveled as far south as Wayrest. The air was still cold of course but at least they could tolerate being out for a short time. The Archon had finished speaking with Claudia as well as a long line of people giving them their condolences. Well, most of them were talking to Claudia and then Bann-Je. Sibylla did her best to project that she did not want to be spoken to. **  
><strong>Her eyes flared when she saw Delamar. It was one thing for Alaviera to be there at the service but she felt that Delamar was another matter. It wasn't rational of course but something about that Thalmor commander made her want to throw him out. Something told her that he had no business being there. Still, he was there and now he was talking to Claudia in that pretentious tone of his.

**"**I am sorry for the loss of your team member, Miss Vivinici. I know what it is like to lose soldiers under me." Delamar said with a bow.

**"**Thank you." Claudia murmured, not even looking at him but staring at the ground.

Sibylla was about to find a way to herd him off when she felt someone tapping her shoulder from behind. The Nord woman turned around to find herself staring into a familiar face. A glance at his beautifully polished steel reminded her who he was. It was Sir Gervald from Northpoint.

**"**Knight, what are you doing here?" Sibylla demanded.

**"**Ahem, excuse me, Lady Sibylla. I do not wish to bother you, but I escorted someone to see you. You should probably see for yourself." Gervald explained, almost apologetically.

Sibylla looked over to see the horse drawn cart he motioned to, having recently arrived into the city. She saw a figure step out and pad over to them. Golden amber armor plates shone from his feet and hands, hidden under a dark robe as he limped over to them with the help of a spear.

Everyone was staring at him in silence.

The stranger padded right over to Claudia and handed her two large bags that bulged with the shape of many coins. He kept a similar bag to himself and placed it on the ground before pulling back the dark hood that hid his face. If anyone had any doubts before, they didn't have them anymore.

**"**Do'Ravier!" Sibylla shouted, partially in shock, anger and, very well hidden, a bit of gladness.

**"**In the fur." Do'Ravier replied with a weak smile.

Frankly, the Khajiit looked like he had gotten dragged through every plane of Oblivion and then went around for another tour. It was clear that he had lost a lot of weight, his face was gaunt under his fur and while one ear stood upright on his head, the other stayed at a lopsided, half raised position. They found out later that that particular ear had become permanently paralyzed, Do'Ravier only commanding limited motion to it. It was also clear that he was leaning more on his spear for support rather than actually holding it.

**"**But you..."

**"**You're supposed to be dead." Delamar said, mouth wide, interrupting Claudia.

Behind everyone else, Alaviera had gone pale.

"Quite right, I should in fact be dead. It was quite a tale, really." Do'Ravier giggled, steadying himself with his spear again.

"It's rude to keep us hanging, especially you had us convinced you had died." Bann-Je scolded, despite a smile on his face.

"Right, right. Well, long story made short, I fell off the cliff and hit the river. I hit it so hard in fact, I had compound fractures in my legs and ribs. You do _not _want to know the feeling of bone punctured out of your skin and rubbing against the inside of your armor. Anyway, I must've gotten flushed up into this underwater cave of sorts. See, it was hidden under the bank by a great rock, but there was a sinkhole above me so I could still breathe. I had to lie around in fever and great pain for about a day before I could summon a healing spell of such magnitude that I was able to stitch back all my bones and at least get me on my feet. The cold didn't help my fever but that went away shortly thereafter. It was then that I found out that I was in fact lying on a vein of ebony. I took a few samples, found an excavator in Northpoint and he paid me handsomely for the find. Hence the gold you have there, Claudia." Do'Ravier explained proudly.

Gold indeed, Claudia's eyes went wide as her face practically glowed from the reflection of the coins when she opened the bag.

"One bag for for the Cathedral to do with with they wish, another bag to compensate for all my absent time. I'm keeping this third one for myself." Do'Ravier admitted.

"Wait, wait, you said that all took a few days. It's been over two weeks. What have you been doing all this time?" Sibylla demanded after thinking a bit.

Do'Ravier twiddled his thumbs and giggled sheepishly.

"Do'Ravier...might have gotten a bit lost...for a long time, trying to find the city again."

Sibylla was torn between giving him a hug and whacking him on the head, so she did both.

"I spotted him at Northpoint and I remembered seeing you all come into town together. He was asking for you all so I explained to him that you had returned here to Wayrest. I insisted on joining him on the way back to see him safely here." Sir Gervald explained with a bow.

"Well, it's good to be back, and I must tell you news of what I found in Northpoint while you had left. But, I'd like something to eat first. Also, was there a wedding or something? Everyone is leaving the Cathedral and looking at me funny." Do'Ravier observed.

"Do'Ravier...that was your memorial. We thought you had died." Bann-Je explained blankly.

Do'Ravier's expression momentarily matched the bewildered horror that was still planted on Delamar and Alaviera.

"You didn't sell all my stuff yet, did you?" Do'Ravier inquired desperately.

"Yes...yes, everything was sold off except your bed and room. The books were donated to the library and what little robes you left were donated to the needy." Claudia apologized with a sad smile.

Do'Ravier snatched one of the two bags he had given Claudia back.

"I'll need these two to get new stuff then. Anyone want to meet by the tavern later? We can celebrate the passing of one of my nine lives." Do'Ravier grumbled.

It was mildly awkward explaining to the Archon that Do'Ravier was not in fact dead.

Later on, after Do'Ravier had bought a new set of clothes and robes, the books would have to wait, he, Sibylla, Bann-Je and Claudia found a table at the tavern. It was the usual for everyone; brandy for Bann-Je, wine for Claudia, Mead for Sibylla and the biggest mug of Elsweyr Cactus tea for Do'Ravier.

"You told me you heard of some sort of news while you were at Northpoint." Claudia reminded the Khajiit.

"That I did. While you were gone, and I was bumbling around looking for a road or some sort of landmark, I was able to bump into some Vigilants heading down from Skyrim. Remember that Dark Elf you mentioned earlier, what was his name, Furaldur?" Do'Ravier asked.

"Yes, his name was Furaldur. He might have been involved with the vampires and their sickness." Claudia replied.

"I second that theory." Bann-Je nodded in agreement.

"Don't you all ever stop working?" Sibylla grumbled.

"Anyway, the Vigilants said that they received word from the inquisition. Someone matching Furaldur's description was spotted north in Skyrim." Do'Ravier informed with a smile.

They all shared a glance for a moment before Sibylla spoke up.

"Well, you were doing such a good job taking your own initiative, why didn't you go up there and investigate it yourself?" Sibylla chided.

"Do'Ravier would, but he'd probably make it to the border before those stormcloak fellows or whatever they called might have caught him and then Do'Ravier would probably be in danger of losing his head. Plus, there are stories of dragons. It would be too dangerous for a lone Khajiit to go by himself." Do'Ravier snickered before sipping his tea.

"Your imagination is about as grandiose as Bann-Je's insanity." Sibylla shook her head with a roll of her eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

"_A mistake made with the intention of love is a lesser sin_

_than the deed done through malice or apathy."_

-Archon Cato Augarine

* * *

><p>It never fails. She disappears for only two weeks, <em>two weeks<em>, and all the administrative paperwork gets disorganized or backed up. In some departments, it was both. She couldn't imagine how bad it would have been if both she and the Archon disappeared.

Claudia had to admit, dealing with paperwork, billing information and administrative issues was a welcomed alternative to the particularly bad mission she came out of. It was hard to top getting impaled through the gut.

Still, on top of all the things she needed to catch up on at the cathedral, she also had to wrangle through the figurative gears of the inquisition. The information they gathered had to be corroborated and, failing that, had to be approved. At best, a wild goose chase would waste resources. At worst, an innocent person might end up being throttled for no reason.

So while she and her team waited for clearance to go track their hunch up in Skyrim, Claudia had to deal with papers. Within a week, she was also back to making sure her antsy teammates didn't blow up the building again. Bann-Je was back to relentlessly cleaning and organizing the sanctuary. The Archon wasted no time in immediately tossing Do'Ravier back into his research position in the library and Sibylla was again counseling the faithful.

That still did not keep them from getting in trouble.

Specifically, Claudia was headed to attend the latest bit of drama to hit her team. This time it involved Sibylla. Even more interesting was the nature of the incident. Someone had been foolish enough to challenge Sibylla to a duel.

His name was Sir Gervald.

The duel had been offered as a friendly challenge and yet, Claudia could not help but shake the bad feeling she had. She had a suspicion that Sibylla was not going to go easy on the knight. Besides, what was that knight thinking anyway? Anyone with even a fraction of observatory skills could see that Sibylla could not in any way be described as "meek." Claudia was certain this was going to end badly for the knight.

She kind of hoped he would change his mind the moment he saw Sibylla take up her battleaxe.

She found Bann-Je and Do'Ravier already sitting on one of the smaller partition stone walls that was in the cathedral courtyard. It was the same place where the dead were buried and where Sibylla regularly practiced with her ax. A few of the cathedral staff were interested in watching how the fight went, if only because it was something different from the routine. Claudia insisted that they all stand _inside _the doorway where the threshold doors opened up to the courtyard. That way she could at least make sure to close the doors if the fight got too close to them and ensuring that the spectators would remain safe.

Obviously, she could not make Do'Ravier or Bann-Je comply with that. Those two would be on their own.

"Now, neither of us are the betting type, but hypothetically, who do you think would win?" Do'Ravier asked Bann-Je with a grin.

Bann-Je shot him a wry look before considering.

"Sibylla is formidable...but someone should root for the underdog." Bann-Je suggested.

"Seriously? It would be foolish to bet against Sibylla. If we were betting." Do'Ravier replied.

They fell silent when they saw the competitors arrive.

It was clear that both Sibylla and Sir Gervald favored steel armor but only when they stood next to each other could they see that there was some difference between the two. Sir Gervald's plate armor was polished to such a degree that it shone and was practically a mirror to all who beheld it. Ornate designs swathed the armor, hiding their real intent of further reinforcing the steel plate.

Sibylla's in contrast was dull, almost gray, and could under no circumstances reflect light. The only artistic elements on it were the howling wolves on her gauntlets and the raised wings upon her helmet that protected her temples.

Even their weapons were different. Gervald favored a sizeable steel shield and mace. For the sake of the duel, both left their real weapons in place of practice ones. Gervald's complex, spiked mace was left aside for a simple, smooth one. Sibylla had to make do with a dulled war ax, something she disdained as she really only felt comfortable with Head Reaper. Still, Claudia had insisted on some safety measures.

Sibylla thought that was silly. Considering the nature of the weapons they were using; both of them could crunch bone without ever breaking the skin.

As agreed, the duel would be to whoever yielded or was forced to the ground and was unable to get up. Only Gervald seemed to be keeping to formality at this point and while Bann-Je and Do'Ravier kept ever ready to catapult themselves behind the wall and away from the fight at a moment's notice, Claudia was already placing her hand on the doors. She'd be ready to close it if the whim ever hit her.

"You honor me with this test of skill, my lady. May the better warrior prevail today." Gervald smiled behind his closed helmet as he gave a bow.

"Are you ready, Breton?" Sibylla asked simply.

"Why yes, of course." Gervald replied.

He barely had time to raise his shield to block Sibylla's overhead swing.

Most of the other priests, priestesses and acolytes, while they may have seen Sibylla practice her sparring, had never seen her lash out in anger. Claudia, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je knew that this was nothing. Sibylla was simply playing to win at this duel, if savagely. The others had never seen this before so this was something altogether jarring for them. For many it was even upsetting. The good knight had been nothing but courteous and friendly in his visit.

Sibylla was playing a desperate symphony off of his shield.

"I don't think our brave knight will be lasting for long. He's barely gotten to use his mace." Do'Ravier murmured to Bann-Je.

"We all know Sibylla's style. She's fast, considering that she uses a two handed weapon. However, catch her at the right time and she is left vulnerable. If Gervald does not exploit one of his split second chances, he will find himself hammered into the ground before long. Unless he intends to wear Sibylla down." Bann-Je analyzed, paying close scrutiny to their techniques.

"Have any of us seen Sibylla get worn down before?" Do'Ravier asked skeptically.

"Gervald may be in trouble." Bann-Je agreed.

The good knight did not seem to be in the best of circumstances. Again and again Sibylla's practice ax screamed down to bang off the knight's shield. The spectators could see that it was better than the alternative of taking a full blow from the ax without the shield but it was not much better. The knight slowly but surely being beaten down.

And without warning, Gervald deflected the ax away and swung overhead with his mace.

It hit Sibylla on her shoulder plate.

Everyone let out a cry of surprise. Even Sibylla seemed momentarily stunned. It was for the shortest of breaths, however, because Gervald had to have his shield up again as the Nord relentlessly responded. Still, it could not be denied, Gervald had finally returned a blow. There was also another question, Gervald had hit Sibylla's shoulder, couldn't he have easily gone for her head?

Maybe the knight had a better chance than they gave him credit for.

And the rhythm of battle changed. Now, Sibylla had to change the symphony as Gervald was able to throw in more blows since he had slowed her down. The large Nord woman was forced to bring the haft of her ax up to block incoming blows from Gervald's mace. For a while, the onlookers were wondering if there would be a standstill as it looked like the two combatants had battered themselves into a standstill, neither able to find a break in their defenses.

"Changing your mind on your hypothetical bet, mage?" Bann-Je snickered quietly.

"Wait for it, wait for it. The tall, angry woman will toss a surprise in." Do'Ravier replied.

And suddenly, she did.

Gervald sent his mace forward, catching Sibylla before she could swing her ax at him again. Startled in mid-swing, Sibylla instead put some force into her block. The haft of her ax caught Gervald's mace with jarring force.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier were sent scrambling away as the mace sailed in their direction.

If Gervald appeared dismayed, none could see his face behind the steel of his helmet. Instead, the knight found himself staring the blunted edge of the large ax that Sibylla menacingly held over him.

"Yield!" Sibylla declared.

Not only did Gervald refuse her, he threw in his own surprise.

Gervald charged in under the ax.

Sibylla pushed the shaft forward trying to block the armored Breton. She succeeded in only momentarily giving him pause because Gervald sent his fist forward, knocking Sibylla's helmet. When she staggered, Gervald was already trying to wrench the ax free from her grasp. Rather than losing it to him, Sibylla forced it aside so that neither could have it.

And before anyone was quite sure what was happening, the two were hurling fists at each other and staggering around as only two heavily armored warriors with a limited field of vision could.

"Well...this is rather unchivalrous." Do'Ravier murmured.

"Yeah, I give up." Bann-Je added as the two beasts poked their heads above the wall.

Over at the doorway, Claudia had a palm on her forehead as she sighed in exasperation.

And for one final twist, both Sibylla and Gervald struck each other at the same exact moment...and both ended up flat on their back.

"Hypothetically speaking, I believe we've both lost." Bann-Je murmured.

"You both all right?" Do'Ravier asked, walking up to them.

Sibylla and Gervald both responded that they were at least fine, more or less.

Assured that the combatants had survived relatively unharmed, if neither side gaining a clear victory, the other onlookers all left. They had wasted enough time with such antics for the day. Claudia could not help but shake her head but she too left, as did Bann-Je and Do'Ravier.

"So if we draw, how do we handle this? I take it we both lose." Sibylla said, eyes still gazing through her visor into the morning skies.

"If you deem it appropriate, I suggest we each are allowed to grant a favor to the other. If you so wish." Gervald offered.

"Very well, knight. You owe me a tankard of mead. Now, what would you ask of me?" Sibylla asked.

"Only your company for an afternoon ride into the countryside." Gervald replied slyly.

"...Very well, sir knight." Sibylla agreed.

Hidden to everyone else, she had a bemused smile behind her helmet.

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier hastily jotted notes down on one of the large chalkboards. He was back in his old study room. The library had at least been gracious enough to return the books that the Cathedral had donated to them in his "death." On top of all the priests who needed something looked up, Claudia had ordered a massive research project for him. Claudia wanted to know everything he could find on disease and vampirism. He thought it was an odd request but Claudia specifically emphasized to him that he was not to give just a straightforward answer. She wanted an exhaustive paper on the issue, written so that she could understand.<p>

So much for getting a vacation. Even being dead had turned out to be a chore.

The Khajiit wiped the cloud of chalk out of his paws when he heard the door open. He was surprised to see who it was. Sylva, the Redguard mage from that failed Dwemer ruin expedition, stood in the doorway with a potted plant. As predicted, she was left with three straight lines along the side of her face, scars that would never go away from the accident but she still had her life.

"So, I heard you died...and then you didn't?" Sylva asked, stepping into the room.

"There was a misunderstanding. How do your studies go?" Do'Ravier inquired, trying to change the subject.

"The ruin has been catalogued though more are coming to further research it. My job is done. I'm off to explore more. I can't stay long but I just wanted to leave you this since you saved my life. Originally I thought I was going to have to leave it at your gravesite but I think you'd appreciate it more here." Sylva smiled, offering the plant.

"Indeed. Well, I hope your adventures will be safe as well as exciting." Do'Ravier replied, offering his paw.

"Thank you for everything." Sylva replied, shaking his hand before leaving.

Do'Ravier carried on, he still had one more project to get through before he could tackle Claudia's request. However, he was in a good mood. Maybe he would get another cup of tea for lunch and then maybe two for dinner. It was a happy thought, it made him giggle.

And now, he just realized, he couldn't stop giggling. Not to mention, between fits of snickers, he could see he was no longer writing straight.

Divines above, had he been drugged?

Do'Ravier looked around the room, trying to fight the laughter in his throat while his addled mind tried to deduce the problem. It was really hard not to get distracted by all the pretty colors. It had to be a recent induction, unless of course it was introduced into his body on a delayed mechanism.

And then he realized he should probably take a better look at those plants.

Yep. Catnip.

Do'Ravier really felt bad about tossing the plants, pot and all, out the window but at least it was the thought that counted, right?

* * *

><p>Bann-Je was in the sanctuary dusting as was his usual custom. The stream of visitors had died to a trickle and for now the place was mostly deserted. He preferred it this way. He could sweep through everything three times, as his compulsion demanded, and not have a visitor muss it up.<p>

Two of the lay sisters had also taken the infant they found a month ago out to keep him company. The child was developing fast and sadly, they just could not settle on a name for him yet. Well, there was _one _name he was responding to but no one else was quite sure if they were comfortable with it.

"Hello, Skib." Bann-Je greeted as the sister walked by with the child in her arms.

Skib giggled and waved back at him, as much as his still developing motor skills allowed.

While Bann-Je had plates and shrines to polish, the two Cathedral sisters played and coached the child. Apparently, the bably was dead set on trying to stand. Crawling was coming to him easily enough but he wanted to stand. He'd climb up to the side of a pew or some other raised object and then try to haul himself up. It was always met with mixed success and more often than not, he either ended up back on the floor again or hastily caught by one of the sisters before he hurt himself.

Bann-Je did not know who these two lay sisters were, so they were either new or worked in another wing that he was separate from. The Cathedral was large with many teams. Any staff member could easily work for the institution and never know someone else on a different team. These two were young, probably fresh into the ranks. Both kept their hoods over their hair but Bann-Je could see one had ebony black hair while the other's was a fiery red. Both of them were Bretons. Humans were so odd with their hair, and brows and eyelashes. They didn't even have double eye-lids. And they said he was weird.

Bann-Je was otherwise preoccupied even if he was listening to them. The offering had to be sorted again. He realized a long time ago that it was hopeless for anyone else to understand his system though it boggled his mind why no one could.

Somewhere between polishing a shrine and the tabletop below it, Bann-Je realized Skib had crawled up and was playing with his tail. Tails were an odd thing, one to the beast races they belonged to and two for the other races who had to deal with them. As always it was generally considered in bad form to step on a Khajiit's or Argonian's tail and the beast races did their best to understand that mistakes happen. After all, even then might commit the mistake themselves.

Playing with a Khajiit's or Argonian's tail? Well, that was a bit odd in any social context, given that the tail did eventually connect to their backend. However, among children it was at least endearing, if odd.

Bann-Je curled it around Skib when the baby started to lose his balance and seemed poised to fall back down.

"Perhaps you should take him where there are more cushions so he doesn't hurt himself." Bann-Je suggested to the sisters. They readily agreed.

"Ar'ga, Ar'ga!" Skib laughed as they took him away.

"Keep practicing, you'll eventually figure out all the other letters in there." Bann-Je smiled.

This railing had one spot that absolutely _refused _to shine. The Argonian put more elbow grease into it.

"Bann-Je."

The assassin turned around to see that Claudia had arrived. Sibylla and Do'Ravier were in tow behind her. Sibylla seemed to have recovered from her duel. The Khajiit seemed to have a goofy look plastered on his face but Bann-Je didn't think anything of it at the moment.

"Yes?" the Argonian asked in curiosity.

"Come. I have your next assignment." Claudia ordered.

Bann-Je rubbed the spot three times and then left to join them.

Claudia led them to a side room off one of the hallways leading into the sanctuary. It was rather small but the privacy it afforded was all they needed. Sometimes, it was best that others did not hear of the plans of the Vigilant of Stendarr.

"The inquisition has approved our mission. They cannot spare any more men to look for Furaldur in Skyrim but they can allow for you three to go after him." Claudia announced simply as soon as they shut the door.

"You're not coming?" Bann-Je asked curiously.

"No. They want me to continue recuperating, the Cathedral's administrative papers are a mess and they seemed to imply they want me closer on hand at the moment. I'd argue but the orders were clear and came down from the top. You'll excuse me if I agree with them on the 'recuperating' part." Claudia admitted.

"Understood." Bann-Je replied.

"Sibylla, Skyrim is your home province and we know that Furaldur mentioned something about Peryite. Are there any shrines or places devoted to Peryite there?" Claudia inquired.

Sibylla only shrugged.

"I heard that there might be a shrine to him somewhere but I don't know. Obviously, his followers are not going to mention it too much. Besides, aren't Daedra more of a Dunmer thing?"

"Yes, but there are shrines are all over the place. Do any of you know _anything _on where to begin your investigation there? Bann-Je? Do'Ravier?" Claudia pressed.

No one said anything.

Claudia sighed and decided to ask one last question on a hunch.

"What about Azura? Maybe a shrine to Azura?" Claudia asked.

"Sure, there's a shrine to Azura near Winterhold which I'm sure someone could point us to. They're a little more open about her shrine. But what does she have to do with Peryite?" Sibylla inquired.

"Just go there and ask. Azura is a Daedra and her followers seem the most helpful, or at least the most likely not to do any harm. It's as good a place to start as any." Claudia argued, again finding a way not to reveal her visions.

Her three teammates simply nodded in agreement, acknowledging they understood what to do.

"Sibylla, this is your home province and you've already been put in leadership once so I'm putting you in charge again. Any questions?" the Imperial woman asked.

When she was only met with silence, Claudia dismissed them.

They were to leave immediately.

Half an hour later, Sibylla, Bann-Je and Do'Ravier were beyond the walls of Wayrest and heading north again. This time, they would go beyond the city of Northpoint and head into Skyrim. It was going to be cold. Snow blanketed much of the earth and it only promised to become more frigid the further north they went. Bann-Je and Do'Ravier seemed particularly bundled up as the Khajiit clutched his spear as if it were frozen to him while Bann-Je rubbed his hands together.

They had to travel light. Speed and mobility was more important on this mission as they were tracking someone. They were granted additional funds so they could buy supplies as provisions as they went. Should the situation deteriorate, many elite Vigilant teams were trained to live off the land if they ran out of coin to purchase food. Considering there never seemed to be an end of bandits, a little dispensing of justice was never discouraged either.

"Oh come on, this will be fun!" Sibylla laughed as they walked along the roads. She was a little disappointed that she was not able to take Sir Gervald up on his offer yet. He was gracious and said that they would honor their requests when her mission was over. He himself would be heading south, possibly looking for wrongs to right.

Not that she'd admit to looking forward to it.

"Do'Ravier does not like the cold." The Khajiit grumbled in a heavy accent.

"Below freezing is not good for Argonians." Bann-Je added miserably.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You two aren't Nords. Still, could I ask you two one thing?" Sibylla asked.

"What?" Do'Ravier huffed, his breath turning into frost as soon as it left his mouth.

"I get the extra layers but you two have never wrapped up your bottom paws before." Sibylla observed, pointing at their non-humanoid feet.

"You go walking along these cold, frozen, cobblestone roads and then _not _get frostbite." Do'Ravier grumped.

"We must get to the next town. I want a warm drink." Bann-Je shivered.

"We just left!" Sibylla cried.

"We must hurry then." Bann-Je retorted.

* * *

><p>Claudia was on edge. She could not show it because she was bringing Skib back to the nursery. Most of the Cathedral was already sleeping. It was late at night to begin with. She had been busy taking care of the endless pile of paperwork when she heard Skib fussing. It was probably just a nightmare but as she was coaxing him back to sleep, she felt visitors come into the sanctuary.<p>

The heartbeat thing was at least mighty useful in figuring out where people were even if it was still a little creepy.

Visitors late at night was nothing unusual. You just got used to these things if you worked at a Cathedral. It did not matter if it was three in the morning. Someone, somewhere would probably be possessed with the need to go visit a holy place. However, despite it only being a few days, Claudia had gotten accustomed to listening to the heartbeats around here.

There was something wrong with these. There were four of them and they were in the main sanctuary. She had half a mind to go see the visitors herself. Putting Skib back to bed, she decided she would indeed check on these visitors. She didn't have to confront them directly of course. She was a priestess, this was her place. What was another priestess shuffling through the sanctuary? **  
><strong>She still felt the overwhelming need to get her rapier before she went to the sanctuary. She trusted her instinct and got it. She realized that while a priestess walking across the sanctuary was not unusual, a priestess carrying a weapon _was _out of place.

She'd find a way to make it look casual.

She made her way to her room and fetched the steel rapier. Compared to most weapons it felt like a twig, her hand easily enfolding the wide part of the blade. However, you could not underestimate a rapier. It had its weaknesses, all weapons did. Still, the long slender blade did not have the raw strength of many other weapons. Put it under too much stress or hit it just right and the blade could snap apart. It also was not best used for slashing, it was a thrusting weapon. If you knew how to use it right though, you could bring swift and unexpected death to the unwary. **  
><strong>Claudia stepped into the sanctuary and immediately bumped into the four visitors.

**"**Oh." Claudia said, caught off guards.

The visitors were all dressed in cloaks. It was cold and dark outside but there was something wrong with what they were wearing. The clothes were black, loose fitting. They were made to conceal, not necessarily to keep warm.

And their...irregular heartbeat. They were beating too fast.

Claudia flung the sheath of her rapier aside, her blade drawn just in time as the four of them pulled out blades of their own. Claudia had no idea why she was being attacked, why there were four of them but she was confident they meant her harm and that this was all pre-meditated. They had come prepared and she had barely a moment's notice to respond. She could not call out for help either. She was the only person in this building who knew how to use a weapon, she would only endanger others if she cried out. She'd only do that if something went drastically wrong.

But nothing was going to go wrong, she was going to make sure of that.

Blades whirled and clanged as they all bounced off each other. Claudia found herself hating the long robes she was in, not fit for fighting and certainly of no good protection either. Between the flurry of the blades and keeping sure to dodge each swipe at her, Claudia realized that they had not expected her to put up a fight either. **  
><strong>She felt her first victim fall through a quick flick of her wrist, the tip of her rapier barely touching his neck but just enough to slice through the major artery. The second fell even quicker as she worked up her battle fury. Her downward stroke caught on his dagger and a simple push drove her weapon into his chest.

Two more.

The two split up, facing her from opposite directions. Claudia hissed, sweat dripping from her brow, preparing for their attack. She could feel her stomach burning, the wound becoming irritated by all this exertion but if she relented even for a moment then she really would die.

She felt the two hearts approach her.

Claudia faced behind her and flung her hand back. The blunt end of her rapier's handle flew into the face of her attacker, bludgeoning him back so that he was no longer a problem, at least for a moment. It was almost too easy when she jabbed it forward, easily impaling the other assailant who rushed her. Pulling the blade out, she reacted on instinct once again and pointed the edge of her blade back to her first attacker, the metal hissing as it went through the air.

Plunging the point into the face of the last enemy was more of a mistake. She wanted to keep him alive. He couldn't give her any answers if he was dead.

"CLAUDIA!" Archon Tacitus shouted.

Claudia jumped. The Archon seemed disheveled though clearly shocked at what he was seeing. She couldn't blame him. Here she was standing with her rapier bloodied, four bodies bleeding out in the sanctuary and a frightened acolyte huddling in the corner while Archon Tacitus stood there trying to process exactly what he was seeing.

"What in the name of the Divines is going on here?" Tacitus demanded.

"...It would appear several people tried to assassinate me." Claudia replied.

* * *

><p>At the Thalmor headquarters outside of Wayrest, Alaviera walked at the head of a long line of Justiciars. The tongue lashing she had expected from Delamar never came. Her superior was disappointed of course, but he understood that the Khajiit's death was never <em>that <em>important. He just warned her to really make sure the target was dead next time.

She did not intend to make that mistake twice.

Still, that did not matter. Delamar had told her that new things were at hand. Now that she had returned, Delamar planned to set in motion a plot he had been cooking up. It was simple, nothing too specific and yet very important.

The Thalmor would be closing their fingers around Wayrest in due time.


	17. Chapter 17

"_Sane? Why, I was sane once! Scariest time of me life!"_

- Sheogorath

* * *

><p>Sibylla got it, especially in the depth of winter, her two beast friends did not like Skyrim. They had just crossed the border and if her memory served her right, they were well on their way to Ivarstead. It was a small community of no importance save that it was a good rest point for those who wanted to climb the seven thousand steps to Hrothgar.<p>

Alas, they crossed the border in the middle of a howling winter storm. The wind made it nearly impossible to move forward at any discernible pace, they could barely see through the gale, not that it mattered anyway because all the snow in the wind and on the ground turned their entire vision into white. The only reason they knew they were on the road was from the odd cobblestone that still managed to remain uncovered in the frozen tempest.

Under normal circumstances, they would not be out in this weather. They didn't rush themselves but they had to be diligent. They took carriages where they could. Spending a night at an inn became a luxury as they started sleeping under the stars more and more often with often only a fire and their cloaks to keep warm. It wasn't pleasant but it was part of the job.

Bann-Je was more amazed that they hadn't frozen to death. They hugged themselves through the chill, unconcerned that they were in no position to respond to any attack. They were more liable to freeze solid than get attacked in this situation.

Well, it was just him and Do'Ravier who were miserable. Sibylla did not seem too affected about it.

"What is _wrong _with your province?" Do'Ravier grumbled at the Nord.

* * *

><p>Claudia sighed heavily. The last thing she wanted was for the brothers and sisters she worked with in the cathedral to be alarmed by their work. The Inquisition and the Vigil were the ugly, rarely talked about arms of the Divine Cult. For the most part, the other priests and priestesses dealt with matters far more tame and less controversial than what her job handled. The other arms pretended that the Vigil and Inquisition never existed at worst and acknowledged them as a necessary evil at best.<p>

Claudia couldn't blame them.

So here she was, resting on a pew because there was little else she could do while curious and alarmed cathedral staff kept their distance and whispered questions. Claudia couldn't just go to sleep though. Ever since after the incident in Cyrodill where the Anvil temple was attacked by the long unseen Ayleids, the Inquisition was quick to investigate such matters with great prejudice.

On that matter too, she couldn't blame them even if it was absurd at times. Alas, this situation was admittedly not absurd at all.

Members of the Inquisition wore dark robes that seemed as cold and sinister as the name of their division. It also seemed that most Inquisition members preferred to wear their hoods at all times, more so than the Vigil members. This could have all been her opinion, she had no solid data to back it up and it was quite possible that her perception was shaped by the dreariness of their name.

One of their officials approached her.

"Are you all right, Miss Vivinici?"

"I'm fine, Matthias. What can you tell me about the attack?" Claudia had worked with Matthias before. He was one of the more competent officials in the Inquisition. He was an Imperial like her with black hair and dark brown eyes. A long scar cut through his right eyebrow and plunged down his cheek. She thought it fit him nicely.

"Not much, Miss. One Bosmer, an Imperial and two Bretons. They were equipped properly for the job but we think they specifically wanted you. There was a message on their body specifically directing that they kill you, your full name and description." Matthias announced.

"I take it would be too much to hope that they were stupid enough to write down their names on who made the order, would it?" Claudia asked scornfully.

"Sorry, but you're correct on that. However, we have reason to believe it was the Dark Brotherhood." Matthias whispered.

"Them?" Claudia asked, eyes widening in shock.

"Yes." Matthias said foreboding.

"What makes you say that?" Claudia demanded.

"It wasn't simple. Sending four assassins is a bit extreme, even by their measures. However, one of the mages tells me he has seen the the enchantments on their gear before. It was latter confirmed that it was a Dark Brotherhood assassin and their gear bears a similar, if not identical, enchantment marking. If these were not Dark Brotherhood...well, then there's a new band of assassins around who might be even more dangerous. So, you have to ask yourself, who did you royally piss off?"

"No one comes to mind, I'll have to think about it." Claudia replied after some desperate pondering.

What bothered her the most was that the Dark Brotherhood's patron was Sithis, she wasn't quite sure if Sithis was a Daedra either. That would have to be yet another research assignment for Do'Ravier. She almost felt sorry for that cat with all the paperwork he had to sort through. Oh well.

Still, she had to do something about this. Someone had attacked her at her home and more importantly, put innocent people at risk on her behalf. She was going to get to the bottom of this, whether or not her team was with her yet.

"Is there a way we can track them down?" Claudia asked distractedly, still trying to sort through her own thoughts.

Matthias looked back at the bodies and shook his head in discouragement.

"It's not impossible, it's been done before. However, it's very difficult to do so. We will do what we can, but I can't tell you to hold your breath, Miss."

* * *

><p>Admittedly, she had never had this much fun even when she was living in Skyrim. Nonetheless, that did not change the fact that they were still very much running for their lives. Just how the whole situation started she was not sure at this point, it mostly had to do with Do'Ravier's curiosity over a mammoth, something he had never seen before.<p>

The bottom line of the matter was that they were running from a very irate giant.

"You just HAD to piss off the giant, didn't you?" Sibylla screeched at Do'Ravier.

"I had no clue they were rather protective of those giant, fuzzy creatures!" the Khajiit shouted.

"How big is that thing's club?" Bann-Je puffed, keeping up with them.

"Into the trees, into the trees!" Sibylla ordered frantically.

"Why does everything have to be pissed off in Skyrim?" Bann-Je whined loudly.

"I believe it was our Khajiiti mage who pissed off the local wildlife!" Sibylla snapped.

"I just wanted to see the mammoth! It's not my fault that stupid thing got easily spooked which in turn spooked the giant elf!" Do'Ravier argued.

A tree behind them let out a thunderous crunch as the giant snapped it in half, struggling to make a path to keep up with them.

"What is wrong with your country?" Bann-Je howled.

* * *

><p>Claudia laid down to sleep despite the fact that she had just eaten breakfast. The cathedral was still jarring from the attack last night but regular operations were slowly getting back into gear. After plenty of bickering, Archon Tacitus was able to persuade her to get some rest. The Imperial woman would have continued to press the argument but the fatigue dogging her took the Archon's side. She didn't think that was fair but who was she to argue?<p>

She pulled the covers up to his chin and let out a frustrated sigh. Begrudgingly, she closed her eyes...

And could have sworn she felt herself get transported off to somewhere else.

When Claudia opened her eyes...well, she wasn't back at the cathedral that was for sure. She was sitting at a long table, splendidly arrayed with all manner of fancy plates and dining ware. The wine glasses were polished almost to the point of transparency. There was something wrong, though. It took awhile for her to notice but it was her nose that pointed her towards the answer. Every dish, every platter, was stocked with cheese of various sorts. Even the wine glasses had a wedge of cheese in them.

"Ah, there ya are, lassie. Nice of you to drop in." a heavily accented voice cheered.

Claudia looked across from her to see an older man with grayish, white hair and a smiling disposition. Actually, there was something about that smile of his that she found a little...off. His eyes were also completely dull white. However, if the man was blind it did not seem to impede him as he still looked directly at her. He was also rather flamboyantly arrayed with bright colors.

"Who...who are you?" Claudia sputtered, wondering if she was dreaming.

"Me? Why, I'm quite mad, lassie! That's all you need to know! But tell me now, do I seem so mad?" the man asked a bit too loudly.

Claudia stared at him in bewilderment. He didn't seem enraged, he seemed a bit too energetic and quite off in the head. It was in that moment that she realized he was playing off the double meaning of the word. "Mad" could also mean insane. If this man was insane, and considering the type of conversations she had been having...

"Ah, yes! She gets it! A smart one she is...though I hate it when they're smart, very unsporting. Ah well, as you have unwillingly guessed, I am Sheogorath, the lord of Madness!" Sheogorath declared.

"Oh gods..." Claudia groaned, burying her face in her palms. First it was Azura, then she had a conversation with Arkay and now here she was having dinner with the Daedra lord of Madness.

"Well, I don't know about the others, but I'm here. Would you like me to leave a message for the others? Also, you'd have to specify which others. Might take awhile to get to some of them. Not all of them are very sociable. Very much like cheese, actually." Sheogorath muttered.

"Look, I assume I'm here for a reason." Claudia said.

"Quite right you are, lassie! You're almost as bright as your cat friend, though he's not all that quite fun. Much too attached to his dignity and brain to be of much use to me. The lizard fellow, though, hmmm, he can be quite interesting indeed. Have to get him to strangle someone with their own intestines sometime. That would make me quite ecstatic! So happy in fact, I'd probably go set some children on fire!" Sheogorath declared.

Claudia stared back at him in horror.

"What? Not like they'd burn for very long. There's not much to them." Sheogorath shrugged.

"Just, just tell me why you brought me here." Claudia insisted.

"Ah yes, you're indeed right, we're getting off topic. I like getting off topic. Topically off, if you ask me. Once set the dials all off. What was that poor bastard's name, Sven? Yeah, he was a piece of work. Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, why are you here again, lassie?" Sheogorath asked Claudia expectantly.

Claudia understood that there was indeed very good reason why Sheogorath was the Daedra lord of madness. He was starting to drive her insane. Which admittedly may have been the whole point to begin with. She took a deep breath and tried to maintain her patience. She did not think it would be a good idea to yell at a Daedra lord.

"I-I don't know. I'm under the impression that you brought me here." Claudia replied, trying to smile so to match his civility.

"Me?" Sheogorath asked with exaggerated shock, a hand on his chest. "But, you're one of those all too serious Vigilant of Stendarr types. Very bad at parties, no sense of humor at all. Bad for the health. What would the nonsensical chap like myself have anything to do with the sensical likes of you?" Sheogorath demanded.

"First I start getting visions from Azura and now I'm talking to you. I think there's a connection and that there is something you want from me. After all, I didn't summon either of you." Claudia replied frankly.

Sheogorath leaped from his chair and gave the table a hearty whack with his cane.

"Aha! The lassie does have a brain on her shoulders and some wit between her ears! Even better, she thinks she can talk sense into the senseless by making sense! Actually come to think of it, it worked. No matter. Must remember to set the thieves on fire later. Anyway, I'm so impressed with you that instead of smacking your brain about with your intestines, I'm going to give you a straight answer. You better appreciate it, I'm not too big on giving sensical answers." Sheogorath warned, almost threateningly.

"O-kay..."

"Actually, what am I talking about? I'm not going to give you a straight answer! That would be uncharacteristically out of character of me!" Sheogorath protested angrily.

Claudia stared at him, at a loss for words.

"Haskill will." Sheogorath said.

And with that, a very serious looking man with a hooked nose and long, black clothes poofed into existence next to the lord of madness.

* * *

><p>As with all things in Skyrim, the roads had been long and difficult to climb in the dead of winter, especially when climbing uphill into the mountains. They had taken the difficult road north towards Winterhold and cut through several different mountain passes headed to the Shrine of Azura. Finding its location had not proven difficult. It seemed that most of the local Dunmer knew of the place and for an extra pawful of gold, Do'Ravier was able to get one of them in Windhelm to tell them of the specific mountain passes that went off the road to further expedite their arrival. It wasn't easy but it was quick and helped to cut down their travel time.<p>

No one had any substantial reaction to hearing a description of the Peryite priest Furaldur. The mage had vanished into thin air.

"There it is..." Sibylla said breathlessly, glimpsing the marble white statue jutting beyond the jagged mountain faces.

The air was cold but the bright sunlight reflecting off all the snow and stone helped to alleviate that. It was nearly blinding, all of them still squinted from time to time. Neither Do'Ravier nor Bann-Je had better acclimatized to the freezing weather but they had tired of complaining. Sibylla threatening to brain them also helped some. It was just a matter of climbing the path towards the towering statue at this point.

"How did they make that?" Do'Ravier asked as they carefully negotiated with the icy slopes.

"No clue." Sibylla muttered, hands steadying herself as the ground seemed to go near vertical.

"Did they carve it out of the mountain? Do'Ravier knows the Dunmer made it after the disaster at Vvardenfell but if it was carved from a single stone...how much work would that have taken?" Do'Ravier murmured to himself.

Bann-Je just grumbled. He above all wanted to go someplace warm again.

"I'm not a walking book, cat." Sibylla retorted.

"Also, just how are we going to get an answer out of that shrine if there's no one there?" Do'Ravier continued.

"One bridge at a time, Khajiit." Sibylla murmured, unsure herself.

The statue seemed even larger and more imposing, even majestic, up close. Do'Ravier's concerns were unraveled when they saw a lone figure further up the base of the shrine. Carefully climbing up the steps so not to fall off on account of the ice, the trio made it to the lone mage, a Dunmer intently studying the texts in front of her.

**"**Three Vigilants of Stendarr, sent by a fourth to a Shrine of a Daedra to ask of another. What strange times we live in and they shall grow stranger still." the Dunmer woman said out loud, not even looking away from her books when the three approached.

"How did you know all of that?" Sibylla demande.

"Careful, Sibylla. If she knows...it would probably be best not to alienate her, even if she is a Daedra worshipper." Bann-Je cautioned.

"You are not unwise to be wary of the Daedra, though perhaps you should study more before you bury them all under the same curtain of contempt. You, however, would know the more about that than your peers, wouldn't you, Argonian?" the Dunmer woman questioned.

Bann-Je remained silent and prayed the others would chalk it up to guessing he did some studies in the matter. Their silence seemed to confirm his hopes.

"We're here to ask about Peryite, and we 'd like an answer that is not posed in riddles." Sibylla ordered.

"Very well. Head west, past Dawnstar. Take the road heading towards Solitude. You will find an old man, an Imperial mage in the swamps north of Morthal. Go with him, he will show you the way towards what you seek." the Dunmer mage prophesied.

"We did not tell you what we were looking for." Do'Ravier said.

"You seek the shrine of Peryite. Azura has shown me these things, she speaks to me just as the Divines and Daedra speak to one you hold dear, though you do not know it. Go quickly, do not tarry here. You have a long road ahead, one that will take years and your adversaries are not the kind you want to keep waiting."

"It will only take a few days to get to Dawnstar and Solitude." Sibylla pointed out.

"I was not talking about the road to the cities."

She refused to speak with them anymore after that. She only motioned to them urgently that they get on their way.

* * *

><p>Haskill was serious and far easier to communicate with than Sheogorath. The Daedra lord of madness left the table, muttering something about redecorating the place with frog entrails and cheese, while Haskill conversed with Claudia.<p>

Claudia tried to ignore Sheogorath doing some sort of demented jig in the background. He was complaining loudly about how he needed to stop making the fishstick too complicated.

"You must understand, Madam, you're not going to understand the motives and happenings of the Daedra. You must only know that Sheogorath has saw fit to warn you of your next course of action." Haskill explained, his voice an enthusiastic monotone.

"But what's going on? Why am I being contacted by the Daedra lords and the Divines? Even Sheogorath has admitted that Vigilants are not too fond of Daedra." Claudia asked.

"My lady, trying to understand Sheogorath's motives is about as futile as trying to drain the oceans. It cannot be done. Sheogorath is not so much evil as he is a wild card. You must understand that not all of the Daedra wish you mortals ill." Haskill explained.

"Very well, just tell me what must be done then." Claudia relented.

"That you will have to figure out on your own and you are well on your way. Just know that you must never deviate too long from your path of trying to understand the mechanizations of the mage that follows Peryite. He will lead you down the path you are seeking and will take you to a plot much bigger than you can imagine. However, you may be forced to handle other evils. This is just the beginning of the journey, my dear. Do not lolligag too long." Haskill warned.

"Very well. Is there nothing else you can tell me?" Claudia asked.

Haskill opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Sheogorath's overly excited voice.

"All right, all right, enough chit chat there, lassie. That's about as generous as I'm feeling, unless you would like another gift? I'd be absolutely sanguine with intestines if you'd like a touch of bitter mercy." Sheogorath grinned madly.

"I know it is rude to accept a gift, but if I may, I'm going to have to decline on that." Claudia replied firmly.

"Quite right, if disappointing. Besides, you still have to deal with those imps you call your teammates. Those scamps might as well have been sent by me, myself and me again. Now then, off with you, the reindeer games await. Or are they unicorn games? I hated Hircine for so long after that. Hmm, must find a way to send a wereshark his way. Anyway, happy adventuring, I do miss them." Sheogorath mused with a snap of his fingers.

Claudia bolted up in her bed, wide awake, ill rested and out of breath.


	18. Chapter 18

_It is not wise to underestimate the elderly_

_Many mistakenly believe they have gone frail in their old age_

_A small few are still kicking because Death himself_

_Is still working up the courage to approach them_

* * *

><p>They stopped in Dawnstar for a day. No one was exactly smiling over it. The weather had become unbearable, even Sibylla found it uncomfortably cold. Do'Ravier and Bann-Je were probably vowing never to set foot outside in the winter ever again. Sibylla herself had drifted into a melancholy state and not all of it was because of the Mead. Resorting to old bad habits, she kept her gloomy mood to herself.<p>

Dawnstar was her hometown.

It was always cold in Dawnstar, she only remembered a few days that could be called, very loosely, warm. Beyond that, she did not grasp too tightly to her memories. Not all of them would be what she called pleasant. Then again, she could never claim that she had a bad childhood. She just did not care to recall them all that often.

She had a better life when she left.

Sibylla had been regretting this decision but while she could be blunt, she was not raised to be a barbarian. She excused herself from the inn they were resting at. She was not concerned about Bann-Je or Do'Ravier asking where she was going. If it had anything to do with leaving the proximity of the fireplace, and in Do'Ravier's case a cup of steaming tea the size of a pot, they would want nothing to do with it.

There was no graveyard in Dawnstar. Most of the Nord dead were interred into the many burial crypts but in Dawnstar some families chose burial at sea as many of their ancestors did. Sibylla supposedly came from such a line of seafaring Nords. That was why she stood at the end of the pier, her eyes gazing into the cold, frozen horizon.

Her mother had been given to the depths long ago, she was only a little girl and barely remembered her mother anymore. Her father was a different matter. He was not a cruel man, nor had he been all that difficult to live with. But...

"A fitting place for you to rest eternally...you were always thirsty..." Sibylla murmured.

The irony was never lost on her. She never meant to develop a taste for Mead herself but somewhere along the way...you find that perhaps you were more like your parents than you ever wanted to admit. She lost her mother due to a cause she no longer remember, then her father followed in a half life, never completely sober, soon after. It shamed Sibylla more than anything else. It was why one day when she was young, having saved up all she could, she bought some armor and a simple iron ax from the local blacksmith and ran off.

She did not hear that her father died until yesterday when she found her old home occupied by a new family and the muttered reply from an old neighbor that her father had been buried at sea years before. They had not even recognized her.

"...Thanks for everything, even if it wasn't how you meant it. It wasn't perfect, but I made something of myself." Sibylla said quietly.

She said a quick prayer to Arkay for her parents to rest peacefully before returning back to the inn. They would have to hit the road soon.

* * *

><p>Getting visions from Azura, while troubling for a priestess of the Divine cult, could be rationalized away. Sure, it was highly unusual and maybe a bit troubling. Still, that did not change the fact that Azura was mostly benign, especially for a Daedra. Having a divine conversation with Arkay while near death? If that wasn't normal, it could almost be expected, especially coming from the Divine of life and death.<p>

Chatting with Sheogorath and his lacky over a midnight snack? No, that was just beyond the point of madness. Claudia needed help and right this moment; the theological intricacies had climbed far and beyond her pay grade. She needed a professional.

"Tacitus!" Claudia blurted, busting his office door open yet again.

The balding, older man shot her a startled look. She was developing a habit of interrupting his meditations.

"What is it, Claudia? I certainly hope it is not your team as they are much too far away to be causing me problems." Tacitus replied.

"No, I'm here because I have a question." Claudia announced, taking a breath to steady herself since she realized she was probably just a little too excited.

"It must be a very important question, indeed. Have a seat." Tacitus smiled, motioning towards a chair that was across his desk.

"I'm...have the Divines ever spoken to you before, Tacitus?" Claudia shrugged, being casual.

Tacitus actually chuckled.

"Audibly? As in with a voice? No." Tacitus replied.

Claudia frowned.

"But that does not mean the Divines do not speak to others audibly. Such cases might be rare, but the Divines do take interest in our world, even if we do not fully understand it. We have no hope to fully understand them, that is why we are mortals and they are the Divines. Many have claimed to have seen avatars of the Divines." Tacitus explained.

"So...it's okay to believe that the Divines may have a specific purpose for us?" Claudia asked for clarification.

"Of course. The Divines may not dictate all of us to do some specific quest, but for specific things they may ordain specific people." Tacitus assured.

"Even if, say the people thought it was crazy, maybe including the people who were receiving the visions?"

Tacitus let out a hearty laugh.

"There is a reason the spiritual is what it is and not called 'worldy', for the very fact that they are not of this world. The virtues we extol and assign to the Divines, they are noble things beyond the common things we associate with the base things of the world. This world is worth redeeming but it can only be redeemed with something higher than itself. So tell me, since these things are not common nor similar to some of the more common things of the world...well, what do you call someone who does not think like everyone else?" Tacitus challenged.

"Crazy?"

"Exactly! Geniuses are crazy too in that they do not think alike with everyone else. Many wise men, prophets and seers were deemed eccentric and crazy just because they saw the world differently, and all the better for them to grasp the Divines. Archon Cato Augarine wrote the book on our ethics and yet every now and then said something so inane his own students told him he had lost it. The Khajiiti seer Ri'Vasar sat on a mountaintop in the deserts composing wise sayings...and accumulating such a collection of cups and glasses that it expanded out from his little hut and travelled down along the mountain path. Some people think he was onto something, though." Tacitus murmured.

Claudia shot him a quizzical look.

"Long after he died, it rained over his mountaintop and the cups and glasses collected the water. He had spent his whole life constructing an artificial lake of sorts on his own mountain. Anyway, the point is that sometimes, the right thing to do does not always make sense." Tacitus explained.

* * *

><p>They left Dawnstar in the early evening and traveled as fast as they could despite the light dusting of snow that never tapered off. Whether their bodies had gotten used to the rigors of the road or they simply had stored up their energy waiting around in the Dawnstar inn, they continued on, taking very short breaks until they were north of Morthal as they were told.<p>

"So...is now when we start looking for an elderly man?" Do'Ravier asked out of the blue.

"Maybe you could. I'm told your eyes see better than ours in this poor light." Sibylla retorted.

It was one of those still Skyrim evenings where the stars shone brightly in the clear winter skies. Snow still clung to what little patches of land or wood in the marshes or otherwise became a freezing slush in the water. Even the cobblestone road underfoot was damp from the miry land.

"Prophecy is an odd thing, and that's even if the woman we met was a good prophet. Regardless, we should keep our eyes sharp." Bann-Je cautioned, keeping his eyes on the road.

They had travelled some distance down the road, the glow of the moon keeping their path almost as bright as any day. The snow greatly contributed to what they could see and had staved off whatever feeling of fatigue that would have come from the evening hours.

They were quite surprised to find an older man in mage's robes resting behind a large boulder. He almost took them by surprise, calm and patiently lounging by the rock. If he had not waved to them, they might have walked right past him.

"Greetings, travelers." The old man said to them quietly.

"Good evening, elder. Why are you out here traveling all alone?" Sibylla asked.

None of them said anything but they all distinctly had the priestess of Azrua's words in their heads and wondered if this was the man they were looking for.

"Oh, but I travel by myself often. Less hassle that way and I'm better able to avoid trouble. My name is Master Matthieu Wilbur. I'm a researcher with the Synod." Master Wilbur introduced himself cordially.

Master Wilbur was a wrinkled man who could not have been younger than 80 but despite the numerous and deep wrinkles on his skin, he seemed to be as strong and energetic as someone half his age. They could already tell that Wilbur moved at a marked slowness but that by no means signalled a sign of decline but rather an acknowledged conservatism with his movements that helped maintain his energy and focus. His voice was deep but almost had a melodic tone to it, as if he could easily fit into the lower notes of a choir.

"We're Vigilants of Stendarr on a mission here in Skyrim." Do'Ravier explained after they introduced themselves.

"Mmm, a noble profession indeed." Wilbur nodded.

"Do you mind if we ask you a question, old man?" Sibylla asked.

"I wouldn't mind at all, my dear, but I would ask that you all keep your voices low. There's a reason I'm taking a breather here behind this rock and it isn't just to rest these old bones." Wilbur replied.

Wilbur pointed further down the road with a deft prodding motion of his polished wooden staff.

"There are Falmer down the road. The little imps must've gotten curious and crawled out of their caves, usually a sign of Dwemer ruins. They're blind as bats but their ears are as sharp as the point on one of your blades. I was resting to conserve my magic and take care of them, but if they so much as hear us talking, well, that would be bad times for us." Wilbur shrugged quietly.

"Falmer? They're real?" Sibylla asked, shock heavy in her voice.

"As real as you or me, my dear. They can be very nasty, indeed despite their blindness. That's why I'd suggest taking them all out in one wallop, less grief that way. Normally I'd try to find a way around them...but with these marshes..." Wilbur gave a mournful shrug.

"Wait, if they're blind, then it's just sound we need to worry about. If someone were to kill them silently, they wouldn't be any the wiser?" Do'Ravier asked for clarification.

"You are correct, my boy." Wilbur nodded.

Sibylla and Do'Ravier looked at Bann-Je.

"Looks like this is a job for you, lizard." Sibylla smirked.

Wilbur frowned in curiosity.

Still bathed in moonlight on a plane of unspotted snow, Bann-Je stepped away from the others and surveyed the challenge before him. There were about six of the shambling, hunched over figures. His slit-like eyes showed that Squints his Eye was at the fore of his personality, carefully calculating how to end the lives of these feral elves.

It could not have been easier. He only had one condition, an easy one to fulfill; make no noise.

For the first time, Do'Ravier and Sibylla could easily see how Bann-Je operated since he did not fall into a camouflage spell though a slight shimmering aura seemed to suggest he was somehow suppressing any noise he might make. In the earliest days of the Morag Tong, the organization of sanctioned assassins existed for the sole purpose of executing individuals who were related to an otherwise irreconcilable conflict. Executions were meant to minimize suffering and keep society running. The assassins were even trained to present the legal writs of execution to the authorities after the deed was done, even if they otherwise would have gone unnoticed by the law.

And in Bann-Je and Squints his Eyes mind, this was the beauty of the matter. Minimize suffering, bring justice, if it could be called that, where no other option could be found. Death would find those who deserved it but it was up to the assassin to make sure it was a reasonable end.

The Argonian moved with a deadly and obscene grace, a chilling reality that no motion was wasted in a dance of mortality. The first Falmer was executed quietly with a gloved hand over its mouth and a simple puncture of the neck with Bann-Je's knife. The blade would sever vocal cord and artery in one stroke, silent and final. The assassin would gently lower each victim to the ground and would not move until he was certain the life had left them before moving onto the other. Wilbur had explained that each Falmer was deadly in their own right but letting Bann-Je who was silent as the creeping mist into their midst was almost insidious.

Each Falmer's end was the same, a quick thrust to the throat and a gentle placement on the ground before the cold of death overcame them. That was until the last two, perhaps sensing something was amiss, seemed to wander exploratively, trying to seek out a danger they did not see. They wandered on either side of Bann-Je...

With a flick of his wrist and a hiss of the ether, the last two Falmers' heads rolled to the ground, felled by the assassin's conjured blades.

"That was impressive, son. Certainly more...chilling than my plan would have been." Wilbur croaked as the rest joined Bann-Je.

The Argonian blinked once and his eyes returned to their familiar shape.

"And what would have been your plan, old man?" Sibylla asked in bemusement.

"Massive fireball spell. Perhaps I shall show you all one day. Now then, I believe you three youngsters had a question for me?" Wilbur asked expectantly, leaning on his cane.

* * *

><p>Claudia decided that enough was enough. It all started with errant conversations with Azura, visions that, while they were no longer as strong as they once were, they still left an un-worldly presence constantly shadowing her. Claudia had come to associate this presence with Azura's words. Then she had a chat with Arkay and Sheogorath. This was in many ways a very obvious descent into madness. Either way, Claudia decided it was about time that she actually try to take the initiative and contact one Divine specifically.<p>

Maybe it was about time to summon her patron, Stendarr.

Claudia immediately bumped into a problem. While she seemed absolutely popular with the Daedra and Aedra at the moment, it was not her summoning them. She had never attempted to do such a thing before, short of praying of course, but that was a little different. She prayed out of a sense of devotion and piety, not because she necessarily expected an answer. Now, here she was expecting some sort of explicit direction and having not the slightest clue of how to get the Divine's attention.

She sat in one of the closed off alcoves, one of the private shrines. Stendarr had many ways to be symbolized, sometimes that of a turned wineglass, other times that of a simple horn with otherwise uncomplicated engravings. This particular shrine had the robed image of the Divine carved out of stone bearing blatant symbolism of what the Divine stood for. The robed figure held a sword, it's point buried into the ground while the blade was heavily wrapped in the leaves of all manner of medicinal plants. Justice often required compassion and compassion called for justice.

She did not know what to expect at this point, so she simply sat in the closest pew and occasionally stared at the shrine. The Divines and Daedra had been so forthcoming in conversing with her, she might as well have made it easy for Stendarr and wait in a place devoted to him.

She was not expecting the overwhelming silence.

* * *

><p>Master Wilbur was a welcome addition to the party with his jovial nature and endless plethora of life stories that seemed to keep the worst of the chill away. His baritone voice only added to the tall tales he would spin. If he was to be believed, he had gone delving into countless Dwemer ruins, served as an advisor in the Imperial court and set a troll alight in a single blast.<p>

At first they had felt that a great many of his stories, and exploits, had been exaggerated. Besides, the old man probably had a right to build his stories up but sooner or later, they had reason to believe that maybe he wasn't as full of hot air as they thought. He was always the first to rise in the morning, the last to stop when resting and had more answers locked up in his head than a library. Do'Ravier, Bann-Je and Sibylla felt especially put to shame when they were huffing and puffing climbing a steep mountain path while the wily old man was shuffling along effortlessly ahead of them.

It did not matter. Wilbur claimed to know the location of the Shrine to Peryite here in Skyrim. He also claimed to have a slightly favorable standing with the local Forsworn, something Sibylla found a little far fetched but for now it was immaterial. He was the only one they met so far who could at least point them in some direction. They had already gone this far and the tireless old man had hobbled along ahead of them the whole way.

"Do'Ravier swears, that man will outlive us all." Do'Ravier puffed.

It took a day considering the icy roads and less than favorable weather but as promised, Wilbur led them up the path he claimed was where the Shrine to Peryite sat.

"Now then," Wilbur announced, wearily taking a seat on a nearby rock, "you all just need to climb up the rest of the path. The Shrine might be next to a few trees but you should have no trouble finding it." he explained.

"You're not coming?" Sibylla asked.

"With all due respect, my dear, the handling of Daedra is a little above my area of work. I believe that is your responsibility. I didn't get to my age by not knowing where not to stick my nose, be it dangerous nooks and crannies in a ruin or shrines I probably should not visit." he murmured.

Despite the chill and the cold wind, there was something foreboding about the path that led up to the shrine, something that put the rest of the team on edge. They carefully threaded up the hill, weapons ready despite the icy ground, in the event they had a less than hospitable welcome.

Coming over the crest, they spotted a large shrine, the marble as white as the snow around it supporting the image of a dragon surveying the horizon. However, what caught their immediate attention was the cloaked figure huddled under the shrine.

"Halt, do not make any sudden movements!" Sibylla warned, her massive glass ax drawn and ready to carve.

Flanking her, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je fanned out, bounding in the snow, ready to intercept the man should he try to run. Their weapons were ready, held through armor and thick gloves. No one was quite sure just how much frantic movement was going to be done in the snow, cold and blustery winds but there was just no telling what could happen.

"Vigilants of Stendarr, I figured it was only a matter of time before you caught up with me." the man said darkly. He was a Dark Elf by accent but he kept his backs to them, hands clasped as if in prayer to the Daedra.

"There is no reason for this to get violent. We can just talk things out and ask a few questions." Do'Ravier suggested.

"Unlikely. Either way, your intent is to diminish the glory of Peryite. What about you, Vigilants? Is it possible that the followers of the Daedra may want exactly what you do? A better world? What if we're willing to pay the price you never would to get this better world?" The Dark Elf barked.

"Give us your name!" Sibylla shouted.

"I will give you the messengers of Peryite and his blessings." the Dark Elf replied, his hands immediately lighting up with chilling colors of magic.

Immediately, as if sundering reality and burnings holes into Oblivion itself, four grotesque monsters walked forth onto the land from swirling portals of arcane energy. These were a new horror that Sibylla, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je had never quite seen before. They were beefy, shuffling in heavy folds of rotted, bloated skin. Open, weeping sores oozed putrefying puss and a noxious smell that would have made even the most skilled healer retch.

Their faces were the worst, their skulls were...wrong...neither man nor mer...gaping mouths that went up instead of sideways while feverish eyes gazes from...many different places.

"Don't let him get away!" Sibylla ordered.

Bann-Je was off like an arrow, slipping through the horrors in a dead bolt for their target.

To Bann-Je amazement and dismay, despite being translucent, the mage seemed to sense him and stepped off the cliffside. The last Bann-Je saw of the mage, he disappeared into a similar dark portal of magic and was gone before he hit the ground.

"We got a problem." Do'Ravier announced.

Sibylla was actually the first to discover this. With a mighty swing she chopped down Head Reaper on one of the abomination's head. The ax sundered bone and flesh with a horrific sound and the horror cried out in guttural agony...but kept moving.

The Khajiiti mage was hurling arcs of lightning at the diseased creatures and while they cried in pain with each flash of light, they still shambled towards each of them in a relentless crawl, their thick limbs the size of large trees, their smell too repulsive for even corpse flies.

A quick thrust of Do'Ravier's spear into one of their necks did nothing and the Khajiit barely had time to scramble out of their way.

"We're not able to do anything!" Sibylla snarled, taking small consolation in finally cleaving one of the monster's forearm off.

Bann-Je didn't even bother. Horrific war wounds had not stopped these creatures, his small daggers and neck snapping techniques would do nothing. It was safe to conclude that unless they cooked up something quick they would be in big trouble.

"Children, children, step away!" Wilbur's voice called above them.

The mage was summoning something massive considering the ball of energy that was nearly as large as him. Without another word, the three scattered.

Wilbur unleashed a fireball of such intensity that none of the Vigilants had seen anything like it. The raging inferno struck the snow, flash melting the center and scorching whatever foliage that was frozen underneath, revealing bare earth. The four horrors had been completely incinerated and there was not a trace of them to be found.

Sibylla was flabbergasted, staring up from where she had dove into the snow.

"Hey, Do'Ravier, maybe you should learn a few tricks from him. Maybe we should start taking him around instead of you."

"Ah, that would be unnecessary, my dear." Wilbur cautioned. "My old bones would just slow you down. Now, I don't mean to hurry you along but I suppose this concludes your business? Shall we continue on to Markarth? I would love a nice warm inn to sleep in tonight." he chuckled, shuffling along with the help of his cane.

* * *

><p>Wasted. A whole afternoon wasted. Claudia had sat in that chapel expecting an answer, revelation, vision, <em>anything <em>from Stendarr. She got nothing. Once the hour for dinner came she gave up in her endeavors and went about doing her duties again. She executed each task diligently if a little too mechanically.

Truth be told, she was dejected if not outright angry. She had done nothing to get the attention of all these supernatural beings and yet the one time she wanted an audience with the one she was fairly certain would be the most helpful she got _nothing_.

There may have been a saying about not going to sleep angry but there was no real point in staying up and about. People would start asking questions. Besides, she had already caused enough of a stir. Since she was not getting any further as far as spiritual epiphanies went she started to wonder if Matthias would have anything to give her on the attack soon. Maybe she would have to check on him tomorrow.

She was trying to drift off to sleep for awhile. The problem was that her frustration refused to let her relax. She mostly spent the better part of an hour staring at the ceiling, what little she could make of it in the dim light.

And she suddenly realized it had become overwhelmingly bright in her room, brighter than it had ever been. No mere candle could have illuminated the room with this intensity, only the purest and most intense of light burned in her presence.

"_Do you seek the execution of justice?" _an ancient but no less authoritative voice demanded.

"I'm looking for answers." Claudia declared.

"_Answers to better execute justice? Information to better dispense compassion?" _

"Who are you?" Claudia snapped. After talking with at least one Divine and several Daedra, the experience starts to become less intimidating.

"_The Divine you call Stendarr." _

Claudia let out a quick sigh of relief.

"I've been running circles and having my mind scrambled with those who are not of this world. I need you to tell me what's going on. What should I do?" she demanded.

Stendarr's voice became less stern and more patient.

"_This is no mere thing a mortal can easily understand-"_

"Why do you all keep saying that?" the Imperial snapped impatiently.

"_In the end the answers for the questions you seek do not matter. Do you know right from wrong, Claudia Vivinicci?" _Stendarr inquired.

"...Yes." Claudia replied hesitantly.

"_That is the only information you need know."_

And then the room suddenly went dark.

"Wait! Wait! I had more questions! What are you talking about!" Claudia hissed to an empty room.

She slept poorly that night, her mind too disquieted and her frustration teetering on the point of madness.

* * *

><p>"I don't think Claudia will like our report." Do'Ravier opined as they left a quiet town heading back to High Rock.<p>

"I don't think any of us liked what happened, but we've done all we can. The mage disappeared and it's unlikely we'll get anything else out of here." Sibylla shrugged frankly.

"We can notify the Inquisition. They'll get the word out to keep an eye out for any Peryite worshippers and whatever plots they might be up to." Bann-Je said.

"I suppose. I just don't think this is over with." Do'Ravier explained.

"You're not the only one who thinks that but for now the trail has run cold." Sibylla replied.

"Speaking of cold, I am never going back to Skyrim in the winter." Bann-Je chuckled.

"Right, what was that town we just left? It seemed like a nice little place." Do'Ravier turned to the Nord.

"Helgen." Sibylla replied.

Helgen was reduced to a crater by the next year.


	19. Chapter 19

_Dishonored is the Vigilant of Stendarr_

_Who sees injustice_

_And turns his eyes from it_

* * *

><p>A week passed after Claudia's team returned from their mission in Skyrim. She was quickly informed of the situation and the disappearance of their Dark Elf mage, allegedly Furaldur. She in turn explained her run in with the Dark Brotherhood.<p>

The best her haggard and exhausted team could come up with was that if Claudia was marked for assassination by the Dark Brotherhood which allegedly followed the dark entity Sithis, then maybe something was going on between the Daedra. It seemed far fetched but it was the best explanation they came up with. Stories told of how things would get stranger than normal when the gods colluded with each other.

And ironically, things fell into the normal cycle of business for a week or so while they waited for the Inquisition to make a decision. They may have been a shady Peryite mage out there who could summon powerful horrors and Claudia was hanging with a death sentence on her head but there was little they could do about it with no leads to chase. In the meantime Claudia could busy herself with running the Cathedral, Do'Ravier had a pile of research projects to chase, there was always something that needed cleaning and sorting in the sanctuary for Bann-Je to work on and Sibylla suddenly found a new set of things to preoccupy her time.

Her other teammates quickly noticed. They talked about it on a foray into the markets while on break. The streets were cold and snow held out in the areas untrodden by feet but all the hustle helped to keep the heat away. Butchers also found that their wares spoiled less in the weather.

"Is it just me or has Sibylla seemed in to be in a good mood lately?" Claudia asked, spying some freshly cut ham at one of the vendors.

"Good mood? She hasn't threatened me lately. It's making me nervous." Do'Ravier admitted.

"There's a block of time where she's missing from the Cathedral when she was usually there. It is usually after her morning duties. I've noticed this absence has been occurring much more frequently." Bann-Je murmured, absent mindedly sorting some logs that a flabbergasted lumberjack was selling.

"Haha, that's usually when she's having lunch with Ser Gervald." Claudia laughed.

"Still, Do'Ravier is starting to miss his daily threat from her. Last week she only threatened me once."

"Let the puppy love phase pass and she'll start to normalize a bit." the Imperial chuckled.

"At least she's happy, right?" Bann-Je offered.

"Hey, fancy finding all of you out here." Sibylla suddenly called, hurrying up to all of them. By the looks of things, she had just left the tavern.

"Ah, look at you. Enjoy your lunch?" Claudia snickered.

"Indeed I did, the mead was warm and I enjoyed the company. No, you are not getting any of the details." Sibylla shook her head.

"At least you're not being tossed out of there anymore." Do'Ravier commented.

"Shut it, cat!"

"I have met my quota for the day."

"I know winter has only started but I already cannot wait for spring. I could do without this snow and chill." Claudia muttered.

She was met with very unsympathetic glares from Do'Ravier and Bann-Je.

"This? This is nothing compared to Skyrim." Sibylla declared.

"We know!" the beasts shouted in unison.

"Do'Ravier! Is that you?"

The group looked over to see a stranger rapidly approaching them, too fast for any of them to do much as far as reaction went. Bann-Je was able to see their mage's eyes go wide and Sibylla was certain he muttered something in the Khajiiti tongue.

In the end, it didn't matter. The stranger collided into Do'Ravier and tackled him to the ground. Do'Ravier in turned tossed the newcomer off of him. The next few seconds were a shock to everyone in the markets, Claudia, Sibylla and Bann-Je most of all.

The stranger was another Khajiit, that much became clear when they and Do'Ravier immediately broke into a claw fight with each other, teeth bared and hissing the whole time. As far as fights went, it seemed to take on a new level of savagery considering the feline growls and extended claws. Both also insisted on yelling at each other in the Khajiiti language which did not help the circumstance. The words were harsh, high and savage.

"Anyone have any clue what's happening?" Claudia demanded.

"I'm guessing there's bad blood between the two." Sibylla deadpanned.

Do'Ravier took a blow to the side of the face, leaving him momentarily winded before he returned what he got to his attacker.

"Should we step in?" Claudia murmured.

"That might not be wise." Bann-Je replied.

"Why should we? This is entertaining!" Sibylla barked with laughter.

Even the veteran guards knew not to step into the middle of a cat fight; too many claws and sharp teeth. So long as those two didn't end up damaging property, they had little motivation to otherwise step in.

It looked like Do'Ravier was gaining the upper hand for a moment with a few well placed blows before the other Khajiit sent him to the ground again. Do'Ravier howled when they bit his ear and immediately fought loose.

"Say, that's a girl cat, isn't she?" Sibylla asked, noticing the features of Do'Ravier's assailant.

"Sure looks like it, yes." Claudia agreed.

"Oh ho ho, this is going to be good, I can tell!"

Things got even more interesting when Do'Ravier slammed the other Khajiit into a nearby wall, knocking the wind out of her. Believing her to be stunned, he doubled over trying to catch his breath.

A nearby discarded wood plank flew from a pile of rubbish and knocked him square on the head.

"She's a mage!" Claudia called, recognizing the telekinetic magic.

"Enough!" Do'Ravier shouted in the common tongue, orbs of lightning swirling around his hand.

"Oh calm down, you always take everything too seriously." the other Khajiit laughed, picking herself up.

"So...Do'Ravier, you want to introduce your friend to us?" Claudia asked hesitantly.

"Oh, that is not necessary. This one is Sharza." the Khajiit introduced with an elaborate bow.

Sharza wore a thick brown woolen cloak. Her footpaws were bare but she wore leather gloves fashioned to provide protection against combat while it was entirely possible a full set of leather armor was under her robes. Her fur was a light, yellowish brown while smiling emerald eyes peeked from under the hood she was wearing. Darker brown ovals flecked her fur giving her a resemblance to an ocelot.

"You should introduce your friends to Sharza instead, Do'Ravier." the Khajiit giggled as the battlemage grumpily picked himself up with a grunt.

"Sharza, this is Claudia, Bann-Je and Sibylla. They work with me at the Cathedral." he explained.

The others could see that there was a very marked difference between the two. Do'Ravier had done his best to naturalize, his accent had become less grating and he had picked up many of the Imperial idioms and ways of speech. Sharza still had a very heavy Khajiiti accent and she butchered the grammar of the common tongue.

"So how do you two know each other?" Claudia asked, trying to find a more diplomatic approach to figuring out why they greeted each other the way they did.

"Do'Ravier and Sharza both knew each other from Elsweyr. We went to the Imperial City to study at the Synod." Sharza explained.

"Yes, and that was where I last left you. Is there a reason you are now here in High Rock?" Do'Ravier demanded.

Sharza giggled sheepishly.

"There may have been a slight misunderstanding back at the Imperial City."

Do'Ravier rolled his eyes.

"I don't understand." Bann-Je said.

"Sharza is a, how do you say, professional acquirer."

"She means she's a thief." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"Do'Ravier, you wound Sharza. 'Thief' is such a dirty, amateur word."

"Very well, Sharza is a Spellthief. No matter which way you cut it, it still has the word in it." Do'Ravier retorted.

"So you work at big Cathedral now with the Imperial Cult? That's so very like you, Do'Ravier. Pity all those destructive spells went waste. Or do you use them to light candles?" Sharza teased.

"Do'Ravier is a battlemage with the Vigilant of Stendarr." he shot back, matching her accent.

"Oooh, so dangerous. The little kitten has grown up into a big bad cat." Sharza mocked.

"I'm going to the tavern, I need a drink." Do'Ravier announced in exasperation.

"So, just out of curiosity but is attacking each other the traditional greeting in Elsweyr?" Sibylla asked.

"Only if they walk out on them and leave them hanging in a very important errand that the guards might completely mistake for being something less than legal." Sharza shot at Do'Ravier venomously.

"You failed to tell me you planned on stealing the books from out of the royal court."

"So the Synod could use them for research purposes!"

"Uh huh. Like I said, I need a drink."

* * *

><p>The tavern was as crowded as usual as drafts of cold air competed with the roar of the fire in the nearby hearth. The fire was not big enough to heat the whole building and many patrons kept their coats on. Many also ordered their drinks to be warmed. Do'Ravier was no different as he nursed the large mug of tea in front of him. Sibylla for her part was more than happy for another round even if she had just been there.<p>

"Did you have to bite my ear? That was my one good ear." Do'Ravier complained.

"And what happened to your other ear?" Sharza asked, noticing for the first time how it seemed stuck in a half raised position on his head.

"Got blown off a balcony and over a cliff."

"Did you land on your paws?"

"Not funny, Sharza."

"So where did you two grow up in Elsweyr?" Claudia asked.

"Corinth, very nice place." Sharza nodded.

"What do you plan to do, now that you're here?" Do'Ravier asked his old friend.

"What is this? Is Do'Ravier actually worried about Sharza?"

"I'd like to know where to avoid." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"Ah, Sharza will do what she always does. A little of this and a little of that." Sharza shrugged with a wolfish grin.

Bann-Je, Sibylla and Claudia actually found the whole thing amusing.

"Well if you ever need any help, with legal things, you can find us in the Cathedral to the Eight." Sibylla offered.

Do'Ravier shot her a frosty glare.

The temperature itself seemed to drop a few degrees when a dark cloaked figure entered the tavern being of average height and build. The professional make of the cloak and the style of the hood immediately marked the man as one of the Inquisition. For now, the Inquisition did not hold the same stigma as the Thalmor Justiciars but people still paid them a healthy respect. The Inquisition official made his way over to their table. Claudia immediately recognized him.

"Matthias, good to see you here." Claudia greeted.

"Greetings." Matthias replied before spying Sharza. "Ma'am, I need you to leave as I must speak with four on important matters."

Sharza was unfazed.

"It is no problem. Sharza is sure Do'Ravier is feeling generous and will pay for her drink."

And with that, the Khajiit was off before the battlemage could protest.

"I bring you good news," Matthias announced, leaning in closer to them "It's about some _brothers _of ours."

"What do you have?" Claudia asked, trying to contain her anxiety.

Matthias grinned but otherwise shook his head.

"Finish your drinks. We'll discuss the rest at the cathedral."

* * *

><p>The Inquisition had a reputation for being shady and paranoid. They lacked the authority to commit acts that would brand them "sinister," at least for now. Regardless, Matthias was quick to fulfill those stereotypes as soon as they entered the Cathedral. The black clothed Imperial herded them to a secluded, unused room and quickly shut and locked the door behind them, making sure no one had tailed them.<p>

"You were able to actually track down a location used by the Dark Brotherhood?" Claudia asked furtively.

"I still haven't quite believed it myself." Matthias replied, pulling a small map from his cloak.

"How were you able to confirm this place?" Do'Ravier inquired, tail flapping lazily on the floor.

"We've already had suspicious characters we were keeping eyes on. Claudia's little brush with them gave us further encouragement. After much caution and trepidation, we were able to track one of them to this cave north of here." Matthias reported, pointing to a marked section on the map, a short hike from Wayrest.

"Are you sure these are Dark Brotherhood and not just really fancy bandits?" Sibylla cautioned.

"Two of our agents ran into a door they could not budge. They said it was covered with disturbing images, skulls and splashes of red. It would not open to them nor did it have a keyhole. It must be sealed with magic."

"And certainly within the mode of operations of the Dark Brotherhood." Bann-Je murmured.

"But now we have a problem of dealing with them and getting through that door." Claudia said.

"You'll need to know the password." Bann-Je explained.

"Are you sure it would be a password?" Matthias asked, squinting at the Argonian.

"I know it would be a password. I'm..." Bann-Je shuffled nervously and realized it was about time he came clean with his past. "I'm...former Morag Tong."

"Mora - what? What's that?" Sibylla asked.

"The Morag Tong, a Dunmer assassination guild charged with keeping the peace, handling legally approved and sanctioned assassination requests and whose patron is Mephala." Do'Ravier recited.

"Yes." Bann-Je murmured.

The silence was deafening as each person in the room processed the information they just learned. Each person seemed to go through the looks of skepticism followed by shock and then suspicion.

"Well, you're an Imperial Cult priest now and your name never crossed my desk...and we haven't had much problems with Morag Tong agents in a long time, if ever, so I'm guessing I don't need to worry about your past." Matthias assessed.

"My past is just that, past. I prefer the work of the Divines over Mephala though they did pass on some useful skills for one aspiring to be a Vigilant." Bann-Je explained.

"But how is the Morag Tong and Dark Brotherhood connected?" Sibylla asked.

"The Dark Brotherhood split off from the Morag Tong long ago to accept all requests for unlawful murders. They are a perversion of the Morag Tong and the Morag Tong has been fighting them ever since." Bann-Je explained.

"Would the Morag Tong happen to know any of the Dark Brotherhood passwords then?" Claudia asked.

"No, but if you do get past that door, it's best that only I handle them." Bann-Je warned.

"You? Just you?" Matthias asked skeptically.

"I'm not alone and trained in similar arts that the Dark Brotherhood is. I know Claudia, Do'Ravier and Sibylla are capable but the world of assassins is a place of sharp shadows."

"What do you mean you're not alone?" Do'Ravier inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Bann-Je lowered his head and sighed. He closed his eyes for a moment, tightly enough that it almost looked like he was in pain. When he opened them, his yellow eyes glared fiercely at the people around him. One eye's pupil had narrowed into a slit, the other remained his normal circular one. When he spoke, there were two similar voices in his throat though there was a distinct difference between the two.

"Two personalities are in me, Bann Je is...normal, at least can operate in the normal world..._Squints his Eye hunts in shadow." _

"How long has this been going on?" Claudia asked, utterly in shock.

"Longer than you have known me..._I've hunted long before we met."_

"So is this why you're a bit, oh, odd?" Sibylla spoke up.

"The side that lives in day and does not hunt suffered..._so that the side that hunts in shadows would not endanger the life that lives in day." _Bann-Je's two sides spoke in unison.

"You're not going to haul him off to question him, are you?" Claudia turned to Matthias.

"I don't think that would serve any purpose." Matthias shook his head.

"_You would fail..._and I would not want that." Bann-Je replied.

"But that still leaves us the problem of not having the password." Claudia murmured.

Bann-Je had blinked and his two eyes showed that it was his less murderous self that was at the fore.

"It's held in place by magic. Conventional spells will not do." the Argonian warned with a wave of his hand.

"You said conventional magics. Nonetheless it's still barred by magics, enchantment, that sort of thing?" Do'Ravier murmured, scratching the hairs on his chin.

"Yes, do you think you could find a way through?" Bann-Je inquired.

"Do'Ravier? No. Sharza? Unfortunately yes." the Khajiit groaned.

* * *

><p>Claudia had every intent to get this situation resolved as quickly as possible. It seemed that at one moment they were discussing the plan at the Cathedral. The next moment, they were in the cave staring at the door that barred their path. It was a grotesque and sinister thing, blood red paint smeared haphazardly over it while a skeletal face with hollow eyes glared down at you.<p>

"As I have said before ma'am, being on this operation does not make you one of the Vigilants of the Inquisition and it is best that you stay clear of such business afterwards. Please do not try to solicit yourself into more of our missions, we will come to you if you are needed. I also want to be clear that you are not to speak of this mission afterwards." Matthias droned at Sharza.

The Khajiit woman lazily waved a dismissive paw at him as she studied the door.

"Yes, yes, you have said that many times. Sharza knows."

"When that door opens I will slip inside. Do not open it under any circumstances until I indicate I'm done." Bann-Je explained to them.

"I should probably maintain a spell to detect life so we are not caught by surprise." Do'Ravier offered.

"That would be wise." Bann-Je agreed.

"What happens if you get in trouble?" Sibylla asked.

"You do not want that because then you'll be in trouble." Bann-Je replied.

Sharza meanwhile placed both paws on the door. They could see light starting to gather around her hands as her eyes shut in concentration. A small hum hit their ears as the Khajiit negotiated and prodded the enchantment that held the door. After awhile she let out a small, frustrated growl but continued on pressing her magical abilities.

"Problems?" Matthias asked.

"Just a little, the enchantments are powerful in this. This is no simple lock tickling." Sharza replied, voice thick in concentration.

"Are you at least getting anywhere?" Do'Ravier grumbled. 

"Have a little faith, silly priest. Sharza is almost done."

Suddenly, there was a noise followed by a faint but spine chilling screech.

Wordlessly, Bann-Je slipped through the door and shut it behind him. To the others, he might as well have been a shadow.

* * *

><p>Archon Tacitus found himself being dragged along by a priest who in turn had come to him at the behest of two nigh hysterical parishioners. Both of the laypeople were common folk, clearly upset and talking a mile a minute. The only thing the priests could get out of the whole rant was that they "must stop them."<p>

"Stop who?" the priest asked yet again.

"Show us what the problem is." Archon Tacitus ordered, trying to impose some calm to the situation.

They were led out the door and stepped out onto the snowy stairs that led down from the Cathedral doors. The two disgruntled parishioners pointed in a particular direction. Tacitus immediately saw the problem. Two Thalmor agents were dragging one of the poorer residents away, most likely for questioning. Tacitus could taste something bitter in his mouth.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do about that."


	20. Chapter 20

"_This 'sanity' you speak of. Is it just insanity with fancy shoes on? You're all just one very bad lie away from joining the party then!"_

- Sheogorath

* * *

><p>Bann-Je, or probably better put Squints his Eye, had disappeared behind the obscene door several minutes ago. Do'Ravier and Sharza were both staring in its direction, eyes glowing an eerie white as their detect life spells gave them heightened perceptions. For everyone else, it was a matter of simply waiting which was not a very easy thing to do considering they were all nervous. The Argonian had insisted on going in by himself and the lack of communication, even noise, was disconcerting.<p>

Though it did not stop Do'Ravier and Sharza from growling at each other.

"Talking like them, Do'Ravier? You always were a paw licker." Sharza chided.

"Life gets easier if you take some measures to match them. You might impress them." Do'Ravier defended, neither taking their eyes off the door.

"Bah, they will always look down on Khajiit no matter what you do."

"Maybe if you didn't play into bad stereotypes, that would help too."

"Enough you two, focus." Claudia scolded, sighing in frustration that she still had to mother them all.

She concentrated on the door as well. The passage must have gone deep underground because she was having a hard time listening to their heartbeats. Even Bann-Je's was becoming harder to pick out. Nonetheless, she had to make sure not to seem too engrossed. Everyone else may have been talking about their secrets but she was not about to tell them about her new abilities, especially after a run in with the vampires. She was at least grateful she could still come out in the sun.

"I pray your friend is still alright down there." Matthias murmured.

"He's fine." Claudia replied quickly.

Maybe she shouldn't have sounded so confident.

* * *

><p>His master once told him that a fight among assassins was a dance of steel and shadow, wind and weapons, deceit and murder. He had warned such fights were probably the most dangerous because if you were fighting an assassin, that meant you had not gotten the jump on them and ended their lives before they could react That in turn meant two highly trained killers would be locked in combat and then it generally fell to whoever had the better training or was more creative.<p>

And here he was in a lair of trained killers.

The inside was dark, sparse candles barely providing enough illumination. His forked tongue flicking rapidly, the Argonian knew there would be quite a few of them in here. The problem was that this was their habitation, their scents were everywhere. He could not be too certain of their exact number.

But he did spot one idly leaning along the stony walls of the tunnel. The assassin was lazily sharpening one of his daggers. While he was focused on his weapons, Squints his Eye let loose a throwing dagger, the blade barely making a sound as its point buried in the victim's neck. The Argonian caught the shocked, dying man before he could let out a cry, carefully stuffing him off in a corner in the shadows as he became a corpse.

Barely any blood had fallen in the lighted parts of the floor. He continued.

He could smell their scents getting stronger. He still had no idea how many of them were in here but they were getting close. He was nearing their main quarters as the lit candles were getting more numerous though it could hardly be called "bright" down here. In fact, he could see shadows moving in the distance. He was closing in on a room...

And someone was approaching him.

Keeping to the shadows but not breaking his pace, Squints his Eye reached for one of the four daggers on his belt, the second one on the right this time. Each of these four daggers were coated in a different poison and only he knew which one was which. The particular one he pulled held a toxin that would kill within seconds, even if the cut it made was only a flesh wound. More importantly, it shut down most of the victim's senses and produced a calming effect, making them very complacent.

He lashed from the darkness, jabbing the blade into the hapless victim, in this case an Orc. The larger man immediately placed a hand on his wound, nicely covering the bloodied area while Squints his Eye firmly turned the Orc around and gave him a deft push. The Orc willingly obeyed, oblivious to all around him, not realizing the few steps he was taking would be his last.

The Orc's companions immediately knew something was wrong when he staggered into the room. They were even more surprised when he dropped into a heap on the floor. With all their eyes on him, they did not noticed the shadow that leaped into the room, smoky, conjured blades flashing, until it was too late.

* * *

><p>"He's taking a long time." Matthias murmured as the group continued to wait.<p>

"Don't rush him." Sibylla retorted.

"He hasn't failed us yet but you must give him time." Claudia agreed.

Secretly, she was growing a little concerned herself. While she could not be too sure, she was still hearing heartbeats coming from beyond those doors. However, the noise of their rhythms were slowly becoming quieter and quieter. The fact that they were being snuffed out one by one could only mean that their Argonian friend was still doing his job. Still, that left out a lot of information that they could not know. Had he been injured? Was his strength failing? Was he outnumbered? These were things she could not know. But those heartbeats were growing quieter and quieter...

And suddenly, there was one. But was it Bann-Je or someone else?

Out here, in the event that something had gone wrong, Claudia knew they would have an advantage. Beyond these doors any Dark Brotherhood assassin, wounded or not, would be at a disadvantage to five people just waiting for that door to move. It had to be Bann-Je...but what if it wasn't?

"Someone is coming." Do'Ravier announced, his detect life spell coming to good use.

Claudia already had an arrow notched.

...And Bann-Je stumbled through the door. The Argonian was covered in blood, too much of it to be his own. Nonetheless, it was clear the assassin was in some sort of distress. He was certainly winded to be sure.

"What's wrong?" Claudia asked, immediately stepping up to him.

"The whole group down there...killed. Got stabbed, though." Bann-Je admitted hoarsely, one hand clutching a red spot on his stomach.

"Shouldn't be fatal, at least it should not have nicked anything too important. Used a healing spell...but my head..." Bann-Je's eyes were clenched shut as if he was in pain.

Do'Ravier gently pushed Claudia aside to take a closer look at his friend. He noticed that the Argonian clutched a wayward knife in his other hand but for now the Khajiit decided to ignore that. He would probably need to look at that knife later though, especially if it was the weapon that had caused this wound.

"Head hurts?" Do'Ravier asked.

"Like I have a fever." Bann-Je growled.

"It might be- oh gods, your eyes!" Do'Ravier gasped.

Bann-Je's normally yellow eyes had turned blood red.

"Matthias, help me carry him back to the cathedral. He needs immediate medical attention." the Khajiit ordered.

"Belay that, I got him." Sibylla declared, immediately hoisting the weakened Argonian over her shoulder while shoving Head Reaper into Sharza's paws.

"I might like you, but if you get any ideas and go skulking off with that I'll cut off your tail, cat." Sibylla warned.

Matthias, relieved of his duty, watched the others leave before turning back towards the door. He studied it for a moment and then made sure it would not sure by propping a heavy boulder in the threshold. He hurried back to join the group. Bann-Je need medical attention, he was not oblivious to that. However, while their work was ending his was just beginning. He was going to need more Inquisition officials. If this Dark Brotherhood den had been cleared then did that mean...there was probably only one more left in all the northern provinces...

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier and the dedicated healers found themselves in an interesting situation for the next two days. Bann-Je was bedridden and swearing with every other breath that the poison in his veins was neither elaborate nor fatal. Do'Ravier agreed with the healers that the reason the Argonian was not in any worse condition was because of his peak physical condition. Unfortunately, it did not change the fact that his head was hot to the touch with a burning fever. So great was it that it hurt his eyes to open them, overloading colors and movement so that it was painful to see.<p>

"You need to tell me, are you absolutely sure this isn't some type of exotic poison in your bloodstream?" Do'Ravier asked, sitting next to his bedridden friend.

Bann-Je, a sack of snow and frostsalts sitting atop his head, just let out an unimpressed snort.

"I'm certain. Some assassins will probably cover their blades in some filth and call it a poisoned blade. It could be a combination of anything unimaginative; a dab into the bowels of a dead corpse, some smearing of feces, you get the idea." Bann-Je grunted through his pain.

"I've done some research and I can't get anything that looks like this, other than just some really bad infection. In the meantime, all we can do is continue treating you with healing spells and antivenom potions." Do'Ravier explained.

"I"ll be fine."

"Can you open your eyes?"

Bann-Je grunted unwillingly at that request but nonetheless opened his eyes. Do'Ravier had to keep himself from reacting. The Argonian's eyes were still blood red, not a single hint of their natural yellow. It was jarring but the Khajiit did not see if there was any way they could remedy that. They were hoping it would go away with the fever.

"Can you still see?" Do'Ravier asked.

"Yes, but it hurts." Bann-Je grumbled, shutting his eyes again.

"All right. Get some rest, friend."

The Khajiit left the place only to bump into Claudia. It was clear that she was interested in Bann-Je's condition although she had her arms full. The babe that everyone had finally relented and taking to calling Skib in Bann-Je's example occupied one of her arms. The other were clutching a mass of papers. A little girl was also at her heels. Do'Ravier decided she was probably one of the latest children from the city in need of aid. She could have been an orphan or her parents were missing. There were lots of those sad stories.

"Just have to take these two back with the other children. We really need to open an orphanage or something. How is Bann-Je?" Claudia asked breathlessly.

"No better but no worse." Do'Ravier admitted.

"Kitty, kitty, kitty!" the little girl giggled, chasing after Do'Ravier's swishing tail.

"This one is a Khajiit, not cat, at least not in the proper sense." Do'Ravier corrected.

"Kitty!" she laughed.

"I think it's about time we got going. Thanks for updating me." Claudia said quickly, collecting her things and leading the girl away.

Do'Ravier continued until he heard raised voices and squabbling. He did not not immediately recognize one of them. The other was more quickly deduced since it was the very same voice that had scolded him so many times. It was Archon Tacitus.

Curious, he followed the sounds of shouting and found Sibylla in the process. The two nodded to each other but both immediately saw in each other's eyes they they were on the same endeavor. Archon Tacitus was not a man known to yell nor lose his temper. Something was very wrong.

Both strode into the main sanctuary to spot Archon Tacitus with a stern look and his arms crossed in front of him in an unwelcoming stance. It appeared that his aggravators were two Thalmor. Sibylla immediately scowled at the sight but Do'Ravier remained patient. Both tried not to get too close, only approaching so that they could hear. The Khajiit's good ear swiveled so that it could fully capture the conversation. His paralyzed one made a hearty effort and half succeeded.

"We have had to detain at least nine people in this last week on charges of Talos worship. That is an excessively high number, Archon. Are your people not doing your duty in properly educating them?" A Thalmor wizard demanded.

Neither Sibylla nor Do'Ravier had seen him before, but they did recognize the soldier next to him. It was Alaviera. She was wearing an emotionless mask.

"The Cathedral has always taught the faithful as we have been instructed and in accordance with the White-Gold Concordate." Archon Tacitus defended.

"The high number of people we've had to incarcerate seems to suggest otherwise."

"If I might be so bold, those numbers only suggest your suspicions, not the actual numbers."

"Was that defiance, Archon?"

"No, that was opinion. Truthfully, the Thalmor presence is a divisive issue in the Empire and very controversial. Where there is controversy, you will find people willing to rebel for the sake of rebelling. Perhaps you should find a different approach, Thalmor." Archon Tacitus replied firmly.

"There can be no other alternative approach. These superstitious barbarians must be brought under our heel. As for you, I suspect you and your priests are not being firm enough in your duties. I will be reporting this to my commander." the wizard announced before promptly leaving.

The Archon took a deep breath as if reminding himself of his priestly office and shook his head. Washing his hands of the matter, and already looking quite calm, he left himself.

"These Thalmor, I swear they're getting more aggressive every day." Sibylla grumbled.

"Give it time. They're just going through the motions." Do'Ravier replied.

"Sir Gervald tells me it seems like there's a squad of them on every other street. I'm telling you, they're up to something." she insisted.

"Thalmor love their outside appearances. This is just posturing." Do'Ravier dismissed.

"Is that how you learned to deal with them in Elsweyr? Just stick your head in the sand and pretend nothing was happening?" Sibylla snapped.

Do'Ravier said nothing.

"I'm suppose to join Gervald for a walk tomorrow morning. I'll ask him what he thinks about it." Sibylla grumbled.

It was sunset when Sibylla decided to have dinner at the tavern. Gervald announced that he would be off on a quest for that day. There was word of bandits east of the city and he wanted to investigate. The guards were undermanned and were more than willing to pass that assignment to a capable looking knight errant. He promised her he would return in the morning regardless of what would happen.

She smiled when she saw Sharza enter and take the seat next to her.

"The gods blessed Sharza with sharp eyes and it would be most rude not to use them. Sharza has spied you with a handsome knight with very shiny armor. There is something special between you two, no?" Sharza teased.

"You could say that, yes." Sibylla admitted.

"We could work an arrangement. You want this knight and Sharza wants his shiny armor. You get him out of it and Sharza will find a way to sell it" the Khajiit suggested.

"Stop it. You're as mischievous as Do'Ravier claims."

"Is it so terrible to enjoy how you make a living?"

"It's not exactly a, ah, recognized trade, Sharza."

"No? Are you sure? There is plenty of trading to be had once the acquiring is done."

"You're terrible." Sibylla rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Not the worse thing Sharza has been called. But you must tell this one, does it seem that there are a lot of stuffy elves in snappish clothing going around?" Sharza whispered.

"You're not the only one to mention that, Sharza." Sibylla murmured grudgingly.

"So troublesome. So many eyes. And they make those around them ornery. It makes my work harder." the Khajiit grumbled malcontently with her heavy accent.

"Do'Ravier seems to suggest that we simply put up with them. Yet you are both Khajiits who grew up in Corinth under the Aldemeri. Is there a reason for this difference in opinion?" Sibylla asked.

"Ah, Do'Ravier is probably the wiser of us two. Sharza is smart like the book worm but not elderly like him. It is not as fun, being that way." Sharza shrugged with a roguish grin.

"I believe it."

* * *

><p>Bann-Je's sleep had been fitful and full of nightmares. The dreams had been full of voices, mostly Squints his Eye and Bann-Je arguing and shouting. The Argonian could not make sense of all that they were saying and at some point in between he started to feel that both voices were growing a little concerned. There was some dark wisdom to that. If he were to die, both of them would go away too. He was certain neither wanted that.<p>

_"You, back in your hole. There is nothing to kill here. Must straighten sheets later. Too many sweats, can't count them all." _

_"The night, it is dark. It is good to kill in this time. Could end our suffering."_

_"You are mad. This is not fatal. Would make too much of a mess. I could not do that. Would have to stab the throat three times. May not have the strength to finish. It would be maddening to die with an unfinished task." _

_"Die regretting and unfinished task? You are the mad one, non-killer. All die regretting something unfinished, including living. Must make this quick. We could concoct a mystery poison and down it." _

_"Too annoying. Would have to throw more than three doses of everything but not of the same number. Would drive us mad." _

_"Would drive YOU mad."_

He woke up with a gasp. It was dim though a few candles were lit. He could see that he was in the infirmary though the growing shadows suggested that night was coming. Bann-Je immediately could tell that something was wrong. His fever was gone, he felt as if nothing had happened and it did not hurt to open his eyes. But something was very wrong.

He was seeing in black and white and shades of gray. Color had gone out of his world. He tried rubbing his eyes but that did not change anything. He believed that his eyesight was still sharp and nothing else was amiss but that did not change the fact that he could not see color.

_This is sad_.

Bann-Je's eyes widened and he could feel Squints his Eye stand in shock from whichever dark corner of his mind that he hid when he was not in use. Neither of them recognized that voice before. There was another voice in his head. He had a new voice where they had just been two.

He got up from his bed and paced three times back and forth on the floor.

* * *

><p>It was cold that evening but at least the moon was out. The pale light reflecting off the snow illuminate the road and forest nicely. It put Sir Gervald in a good mood at least while he was on his horse. He had been gone all day and there had been no sign of the bandits he had been searching for. He was not sure if that meant he had simply gone chasing unfounded rumors or if he had missed them. He could go looking tomorrow after his walk with Sibylla. Yes, that would do.<p>

He was looking forward to seeing her.

His horse let out a grumpy nicker, its breath coming out as large cloud of steam. Wayrest was close by. He could see its light growing larger and make out the shapes of the buildings as well. He was looking forward to getting someplace warm and out of the cold.

He heard voices.

"Unhand me you confounded elves! I have done nothing!"

"Silence. Protesting will not get you anywhere. Surely you will confess after some time with our more specialized wizards."

"Sir, perhaps should speak to him before bringing out the tools."

"You are growing too soft, Alaviera."

"It was just a suggestion, sir wizard."

Sir Gervald spurred his horse to a light trot until he found the people he heard. It had only been a short distance. What he saw confirmed his suspicions. There were three Thalmor justiciars walking in formation, a wizard at the lead who must have been in charge of the operation. Between the one taking the rear and the one in the middle was a prisoner. That man seemed to be from the middle class. His clothes were not overly fancy but they were warm and they certainly weren't rags either. He was also angry.

"Has this man committed any crime?" Sir Gervald blurted. He did not know why he had asked rightly. It was not uncommon to see Thalmor justiciars going about this business and the knight knew to let one man do his own business without troubling him. But this time...

"He is taken on accusation of worshipping Talos." the wizard snapped.

"Liar, these bloody elves. They pulled me as I came out of my own cellar." the prisoner growled.

"After you refused to let us see down there." the wizard retorted.

"You had no reason nor business." the prisoner sneered.

"That does not seem to be a good accusation, Justiciar." Gervald observed.

"You will mind your own business, knight. What would you know of Talos worshippers. Are you in league with this man?" the wizard accused.

"You have gone mad, Thalmor." Gervald declared.

"And you act like a man with something to hide." the wizard spat, hands lighting up with fire.

"Unhand that man, you do not do justly." Gervald shouted.

He only saw the wizard jab his hands toward him and suddenly the cold night became terribly hot. His horse collapsed screaming below him before its chilling cries died in a gurgle and a gasp. The wizard had burnt his mount to death. Gervald was left speechless.

But not without his wits.

Gervald charged with his mace firmly in his grasp. He had always been told that he moved remarkably quick for a man in heavy armor. He was counting on that. Whatever was going on here was no good work. He swore an oath to do good and protect the helpless. He intended to honor that oath.

It was the wizard who was caught off guard and for that his forehead caved in.

Gervald heard one of the Thalmor soldiers come after him, sword at the ready. Reacting and finding himself without a shield, Gervald shied away before letting the momentum of his mace work to his favor. He caught the Thalmor soldier in the shoulder, hearing armor and bone crunch beneath it. He wheeled for the third but the soldier brought her shield up to stop the blow.

"Stop, you foolish knight, stop!" the justiciar shouted.

"Yield!" Gervald shouted.

"Stop this madness, in the name of the Aldmeri Justiciars I order you to stop!" Alaviera hollered, her blade drawn but unused by her side.

"Throw down your weapon and y-"

Gervald felt a deep pain that he had never quite felt before burn through his inside. Behind him, the other Thalmor he had wounded had gotten up and stabbed him through one of the spaces in his armor. He found himself stabbed in the back. The pain was...excruciating but it was getting cold and he found himself growing numb.

Gervald collapsed onto the snowy ground.

"Alaviera, help me get this shoulder bound up."

"What about the knight?"

"Let him die. I've seen him around one of the priestesses at the cathedral. He killed our commander. We can use that."

It was hard to see how dark the night was rapidly getting. But that was wrong, was the moon being covered by clouds? He had to get up. He wanted to but he could not find his arms...or anything else for that matter. He suddenly realized just how tired he really was.

Gervald's last thought was of Sibylla.


	21. Chapter 21

"_Do you wish to be a great hero? Do you wish to be a good crusader? Then first smash the evil that is inside you." _

- Ri'Vasar, Khajiiti seer

* * *

><p>Sibylla stood outside the heavy cathedral doors as snow lightly fell from the sky. A small dusting had fallen last night and left a light layer on the town. Most of it on the streets had been crushed underfoot but you could see it on the rooftops where gray trails of smoke streamed from the chimneys in an attempt to keep the insides warm.<p>

Gervald had not appeared at the appointed them.

Sibylla tried to tell herself that she wasn't worried. Gervald was a capable knight. He had shown as much when they dueled. Yes, from her discussions with him she judged him a bit naive, a little simplistic when it came time to ideals about right and wrong and handling evil but that did not have too much bearing on his abilities. Sibylla paced just outside the door, brows furrowed in thought. That wonderful fool, had he gotten himself hurt? No, he was probably detained. Here she was worrying about him when she knew better. Of course, he would come riding in on his horse with a line of captured bandits in tow and she would feel foolish for having worried so much.

Gods, she hated this.

* * *

><p>Claudia had way too much on her mind this early in the morning. If there's one thing she needed, it was a vacation. She felt constantly bombarded with all manner of crazy things demanding her attention and requiring a decision on them. It was starting to grate on her nerves. It really didn't help that one of the many things on her mind at the moment was yet another vision from Azura she had last night in her dreams. She only saw the face of the Daedra and only one word echoed through her mind that whole night.<p>

_...Remember..._

Remember what? There were plenty of things that always need to be remembered. She needed to remember that she was a priestess and always had to carry a good attitude around. She had to recollect what her team was doing because if she left them unsupervised for too long only the Divines knew how much trouble they could get into. There was also the matter of handling all the countless day to day affairs of the Cathedral, Divines forbid she forget just one piece of paperwork. The very last thing she needed was some vague command to remember something that was not specified.

Claudia realized she was not in a good mood.

However, one of the very first things she had to take care of that morning was checking on Bann-Je. The last time she checked on him he was resting and the healers were at least hopeful that he would make a recovery. She traversed the proper halls and stairwells to get the infirmary. Upon arriving, she saw Bann-Je sitting in a chair, his eyes opened while Do'Ravier seemed to be closely inspecting him. Claudia judged the fact that he was out and about as a good sign. It looked like he had made a full recovery.

"How are you, Bann-Je? You look better." Claudia greeted.

"I guess you could say that." the Argonian murmured.

"The good news is that his fever is gone and he seems to be better." Do'Ravier announced, using a lighted ball of fire in his palm to provide additional light in his inspection.

"The way you say that implies there is bad news." Claudia replied.

"Yes. Look at his eyes. They're not red anymore but they are not his normal yellow either."

Claudia could see a misty, gray film that seemed to be right under the clear of Bann-Je's eyes. It marred the black of his pupils as well as giving the orb it's now dull gray color.

"You can still see?" Claudia asked the Argonian.

"Yes. Everything remains sharp, nothing is blurry, but I can no longer see color." Bann-Je explained.

"Could it go away like the fever did?" Claudia asked Do'Ravier.

"I don't know. Diseases and their effects are an odd thing. We know so little about them as much as we try to make it sound differently."

_Remember. Remember. Remember._

Claudia suddenly felt a light go on in her head. As soon as the epiphany hit her, she let out a pained gasp, so much so that Do'Ravier and Bann-Je both glanced at her, wondering what the exclamation was about.

"Is something wrong?" the battlemage asked unsurely.

"Do'Ravier, you said that Peryite is the Daedra of pestilence and disease, right?" Claudia posed.

"Yeah."

"The vampires, they were diseased and afflicted and yet vampirism is caused by a disease as well. The vampire leader said that a Dark Elf had been around them just before they got that disease. From the report you gave me, it sounds like the things that attacked you had some sort of malady as well. Even when we all started, all those dead bodies at the shrine of Boethia caused by unknown means. This could all very well be about diseases." Claudia explained.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier remained silent for a moment before glancing at each other.

"Do'Ravier is very jealous that he did not think about that." the Khajiit admitted.

The door burst open to reveal a breathless acolyte.

"Come quickly, the Thalmor have come and demanded a meeting with the whole Cathedral!"

* * *

><p>Delamar strode up to the center of the large pulpit in the Cathedral as a compliment of his guard made sure the priests, priestesses and other staff of the Divine cult were formed up before it. All would be able to hear him and he had important words to bring them. He could not help but smirk. These poor fools.<p>

The plan was simple. He had not gathered all his troops yet, he was going to need more. But why not give these sheep of the Cyrodillic Empire a glimpse of what was to come? The Imperial Cult was an important part to any city. If they could throw some confusion in that, then it would not take a great leap for the nobility to follow as they would try to clean up the mess. Throw the nobility and government into chaos, and that only worked to further the agenda of the Aldmeri Dominion.

Delamar could feel himself smiling as much as he tried to hide it. It contrasted with Archon Tacitus who stood off to the side from him. He could feel the older man glaring at him resentfully in elderly disapproval. He wanted to tell that old man he had no clue what he had gotten himself into. He would soon find out.

He continued smiling when he saw the Vigilant of Stendarr group arrive on Claudia's heels. He would savor seeing their reactions.

"Good servants of the Divines, I bring terrible news to you today," Delamar started. "Last night one of my justiciar teams was attacked by a knight known to be a frequent associate of this cathedral."

He noticed a few hoods make futile attempts at trying to pass quick glances at a certain Nord in the crowd.

"One of my justiciars is dead, another wounded. The knight was subdued and killed in the process. This goes on top of increasing reports of suspected Talos worshippers in the area. It seems that every week we have to drag in more and more people."

He loved watching these people grow paler and confused.

"We cannot allow this to go on any further. Tomorrow morning, I will return with some select officials. We will have to bring this whole cathedral under investigation. This is your only warning and you are forbidden to leave the city. I would suggest taking the day to see that any affairs you might have that would force you to go beyond the city are seen to. Good day."

He honestly did not care whether or not they tried to make any attempts to leave or resist, not that he judged it likely they would. They were Imperial cultists, they were trained in ceremony and study. These were the least likely people to offer resistance. As he left amidst the turmoil and stupefied looks, there was only one expression that he found discomforting.

It was the Khajiit. He seemed to watch him leave, no fear, anger or any other emotion clear on his face. Instead, the battlemage only pulled his hood further over his head. Delamar decided he would ignore that. He would have to prepare for tomorrow.

Meanwhile, back in the sanctuary, Sibylla stood stock still, eyes on the floor as if deep in thought. Her brows frowned. She was trying to ignore Claudia's insistent tapping at her arm.

"Sibylla, are you alright?"  
>She was glad Claudia wasn't try to grasp at any comforting lies. There was only one knight associating with this cathedral and it was only for one purpose. She was not inclined to believe that the Thalmor was lying about his death either. It simply...had not registered.<p>

"Leave me." Sibylla murmured, stalking off to go out to the courtyard.

She left Claudia, Bann-Je and Do'Ravier equally stunned in her wake. For Claudia, the sound of the heartbeats ringing in her head told her that everyone in the cathedral was upset. No one knew what was going on. Delamar did not even give them to courtesy to ask questions. Were they seriously doing this? How could they hold a whole cathedral hostage for this?

Oddly enough, Do'Ravier's heartbeat was not that elevated as everyone else.

"Do'Ravier, you know a thing or two about how this works since you lived under them. What do you suggest?" Claudia demanded.

"It is not a good idea to anger the elves. Do not resist, stay cooperative. However, I would see that those in the infirmary and nursery are taken to different lodgings. It may be difficult to take care of them under an investigation." the Khajiit offered.

"The work never ends. You're right. I need to get them out of here now. Bann-Je, you have a head for organization. Come with me, we need this sorted out." Claudia ordered with a shake of her head.

For his part, Do'Ravier sauntered off on some unknown errand.

It took the better part of the day between her and Bann-Je trying to organize and mobile the necessary people. There were other charity organizations to contact, lesser outlets for the Imperial Cult that were not directly affiliated with the Cathedral staff and at the last minute, a bunch of healers throughout the city agreed to take their sick and provide some shelter for the orphans they had.

It was tiring work and Claudia always found it stressful. She still could not believe they had the impending danger of the Thalmor justiciars hanging over their heads. There were enough questions plaguing her mind. Was Sibylla all right? Had Do'Ravier given them the right advice? What was Delamar thinking? Surely this was all being blown out of proportion, right? Dalamar would not allow it to get too severe, would he?

She took some solace in the thought that at least they had one victory for the day, the last of the orphans in their nursery were being sent a local apothecary run by a group of healers. They had sufficient supplies to take care of them for awhile and plenty of staff to make sure the children would be supervised. It was all very last minute but Claudia was confident it would all work out should the worse come...

Bann-Je helped her throughout the whole day and finished the exchange by handing a sleeping Skib to one of the healers. The Argonian had a feeling it was the only way they would be able to hand the babe over to them quietly. Many of the children were not fond of the idea of being turned over to new caretakers. The whole thing had to be a frightening experience for them.

"Do you think they were telling the truth about Sir Gervald?" Bann-Je asked as the two walked back to the Cathedral, huddled in their cloaks to keep out the snow and chill.

"I don't want to know. There's nothing I can do about it, honestly. I should check on Sibylla when we get back." Claudia replied.

Claudia was not sure what to do as they made their way back to the cathedral. There was something else bothering her. During all of this turmoil it was easy to forget the epiphany about diseases, Peryite and all that had happened earlier. If you did not focus, it was easy to just fight one symptom after another without ever asking what was causing all the problems. She would have to write a report to Matthias, explaining what they had just found out. She would have to write that letter after the investigation, though. She didn't want the Thalmor asking too many questions about it should they start putting her in the spotlight. That also sparked another chilling thought. She remembered Do'Ravier and Bann-Je having a discussion with some of the other healers several months prior. They had talked about how diseases sometimes changed and manifested themselves differently. Everyone knew vampirism was caused by a disease. Was she experiencing a new form of it? What was going on?

There were too many questions.

For Sibylla's part, she had locked herself in her room and did not bother lighting the candles. She heard Claudia knocking and asking for her at some point but she easily ignored it. Everything was easy to shut off. The Thalmor were a bunch of ruthless cretins but she had no reason to doubt Delamar. It would explain why he did not return that morning when he was so usually punctual. She was not sure how she felt about the whole thing, it just did not seem real. She had cared about the man, learned to enjoy his company and yet they had just met. She was not sure if she was shocked or heartbroken and yet she could not summon a single emotion. She was not sure if she could feel any.

And what of the morrow? The Thalmor would return as promised and they intended to carry out an inquisition of their own. It was no secret that she had been in association with a certain knight and the naive staff members here would probably willingly give that information up, not thinking they were doing a single thing wrong. Her nordic descent certainly wouldn't help either. This had all hit too suddenly.

When she fell asleep in the dark or how long she had slept was impossible to tell. She only remembered hearing a knock at her door and seeing the first rays of morning coming through the window. She said a quick prayer to Talos. There was no point in hiding from it anymore. Claudia may have tried to talk to her as they lined up and prepared themselves to meet in the sanctuary to face the Thalmor Justiciars but Sibylla said nothing. She knew what she would have to do, judgement would come for her soon. She felt like she was walking in a dream.

Delamar stood at the pulpit again, his robes cleanly pressed while his armor shined as if freshly polished. There also seemed to be an abundance of armed and armored justiciars as well. No one in the sanctuary looked comfortable save for the officials of the Aldemeri who seemed ready to dish out swift justice.

Delamar spoke first.

"This is a situation none care for so I will get straight to business. This Cathedral stands in accusation of harboring, training or otherwise aiding Talos worshippers. Are there any in here who wish to do the right thing and willingly admit it now before I am forced to use more severe measures?" Delamar asked.

Sibylla took a deep breath steeling herself. She would rather get this done now than forcing some of her fellow priests of trying to speculate about her, her bad attitude and Nordic ascentry. She just needed one more second to work up the courage.

"This one. This one admits to the charge."

Sibylla's eyes opened in shock. That was not her voice.

Breaking from the ranks priestly robes, a certain Khajiit strode boldly forward.

Sibylla could have sworn she heard Claudia swear under her breath.


	22. Chapter 22

_Sometimes, when no one walks away happy from a decision, it's the closest indicator of knowing you might have administered "justice."_

* * *

><p>You could have heard a pin drop in the Cathedral. For everyone involved, there was no way of foreseeing that Do'Ravier would actually do this. In retrospect it probably was not all that out of character but irregardless, no one could have had the slightest hint this was about to happen. The Cathedral staff who were not stupefied stared in horror, disbelief or simply lost the color on their face.<p>

Delamar for his part, while disgruntled, did not seem all that fazed by the whole thing.

"Seize him." the Thalmor nodded to several of his soldiers.

Do'Ravier did not resist as they slapped special shackles to his wrists to sap his magic. However, he did speak as the slightest of smiles seem to play under his hood.

"Talos was long worshipped before the rise of your Dominion. Why is it just him of the pantheon that you wished struck down? Was it because he was mortal who touched the divine and thereby could inspire mortals that we are not just mundane?"

"Silence! I will have none of that nonsense! Get him out of here." Delamar barked.

"Delamar, let him go, he's crazy! I don't know what's gotten to his head but this isn't him!" Claudia protested from within the group.

"If he's crazy, all the more reason for us to take him. Don't worry, if he's simply having a slip of mind, we'll return him once we've judged his sanity has been restored." Delamar replied with calculated assurance.

"Or did it bother you all that it was just because he was a man? A man and not a High Elf that was elevated? That maybe there was some legitimacy to the legend that only those of the Dragonborn blood can seal shut the gates of Oblivion? There's a giant dragon statue in the Cyrodilic capital mocking you!" Do'Ravier shouted.

"Enough!" Delamar roared.

Sibylla chose that moment to step forward, lowering her head and offering her wrists.

"I as well. I also believe in Talos." Sibylla admitted loudly for the nearby guards to hear.

By now a growing number of priests and cathedral staff were starting to stare in their direction. Horror was quickly spreading among them. First was the shock that two of their number which they had worked alongside with for so long would be admitting this openly in front of the Thalmor. The next problem they all realized was that Sibylla and Do'Ravier had just fed the justiciars the very excuse to further interrogate them all. How hard would the justiciars come down on them for two of their number flat out admitting to the worship of Talos?

"Sibylla!" Claudia screeched.

"Take them both away, now. We'll have to talk to each of these priest and priestesses individually. I will personally see that these two are escorted back to our headquarters. My lieutenants will take over from here." Delamar grumbled in disgust, stepping down from the podium to join his guards handling Sibylla and Do'Ravier. Meanwhile, the other soldiers began yelling instructions to the other cathedral staff.

For Sibylla it was all one chaotic cacophony that she barely paid any attention to. She was in shock. Why had she admitted? Was it because it was the right thing to do? Was it because she did not care anymore? Was it some sort of premonition? Even Do'Ravier seemed to glance at her quizzically as they were led out into the cold winter air surrounded on all sides by Thalmor soldiers, Delamar at their head upon his horse.

"I am not surprised by either of you." Delamar murmured disgustedly at them as he spurred his horse to the head of the formation in front of them.

Sibylla detested the feeling of the heavy hemp rope around her wrists, binding them in front of her. Do'Ravier's shackles looked smoother and therefore more comfortable. However, she knew he would have hated it, maybe much more than she hated her own bindings only because his were taking away his greatest asset. What was most perplexing was how he seemed to be smiling, as if this was something he had planned all along. He even seemed to be looking into the sky. Crazy Khajiit.

She hated how everyone was staring as they passed. All of them with wide eyes and gawking faces. Random people who probably had an inkling that something was wrong and yet said and did nothing. The poor fools. Sibylla had half a mind to snap at these faceless onlookers and yet she knew better. They just wanted to be left alone and yet when oppressors demanded an inch they would soon take a mile and those who were promised to be spared would soon be ground underfoot as well. The most wretched thing about it was that they would play along with it all the while, praying desperately that the writing on the wall would be wrong, if they just ignored it hard enough it would become false.

Sibylla blinked when an abnormally strong wind seemed to descend on them. In fact, the the entire column seemed to slow as the wind picked up pace. It was a sustained force and soon it was billowing snow on them which had come from the overhead rooftops.

"What sorcery is this?" Delamar grumbled on his horse.

Sibylla heard Do'Ravier chuckle.

There was something wrong about that noise, she wasn't sure what but it bothered her. It was not a tone she had heard in his voice before. It was at that moment that she realized something; Do'Ravier had not been staring into the sky this whole time. He had been watching the rooftops. Sibylla felt her heartbeat quicken. Was this fear or excitement?

Delamar cried out but was drowned by the dying screams of his horse toppling under him. Several of the guards next to them groaned and gurgled wetly in their throats though it was hard to see what from due to all the snow around them. Sibylla did not care, she went on her instincts. She lashed out, bringing her arms over her head to snare the guard nearest to her. He began to choke noisily as she began to garrote him with her own rope. It is a not a very quick way to go and he struggled viciously but Sibylla could feel herself channeling all her hate into crushing his throat.

The wind was beginning to die down but as Sibylla squashed the last bit of life out of the guard, she saw a figure come skidding to a halt in front of Do'Ravier. Hooded and brandishing two bloodied if beautiful elven daggers, she realized it was none other than Sharza. The female Khajiit quickly stuck one of her extended claws into the keyhole of Do'Ravier's shackles and they quickly fell to the ground. The battlemage reached over to one of the fallen guards and retrieved his spear just as Sharza also returned his taloned gauntlets and footpads to him.

Those two had planned this all along?

"Sharza, get her out of here." Do'Ravier ordered quietly, slipping his paws into the golden amber gauntlets.

"And you?" Sharza asked, cutting Sibylla's ropes.

"Unfinished business."

She heard the two say something to each other in Khajiiti but she did not think to ask what they were talking about. She stared in shock at the bodies around her. She saw Delamar was still alive, futilely trying to rise from what must have been a nasty wound in his gut. Still, she was still unsure that this was all happening. She meekly followed Sharza who quickly tugged her away towards a quiet part of the city before the crowds could return.

Do'Ravier watched them walk off before turning his attention to Delamar. The Thalmor was growling venomously, not enjoying his position in the ground. Spotting a secluded nearby alley, Do'Ravier smiled. He leaned down and began to drag Delamar along the ground leaving a blood trail as they went.

"Come, Khajiit would have words with you."

* * *

><p>The atmosphere at the cathedral was stifling and reeked of fear and anxiety. Whether or not they had every single worst case scenario running through their head or were blissfully naive of the cruelest of Thalmor atrocities, no one liked the feeling of being herded like helpless sheep. No one appreciated the feeling of being ordered around by someone with a weapon while they were unarmed and unarmored. Claudia and Bann-Je felt it the most keenly. Two of their team had been marched off and now both were very much aware that their armor and other equipment was only several feet from them in their rooms.<p>

"Bann-Je, I need you to promise me something." Claudia murmured as they were being marched down a corridor.

"What?"

"Sibylla and Do'Ravier already went and did something spontaneous. I don't want you to go pulling any stunts either. You're the last person I have of my team." Claudia grumbled.

Bann-Je's three voices all flared up at once.

"_So much disorder, we need to be in groups of threes. They're breaking the routines! __**KILL THEM ALL. KILL THEM. NECK SNAPS FOR THE FIRST FEW. CARVE UP THE LAST. They are so sad...so sad...will you let their sadness spread to the others? Will you throw away your last depressing chance?" **_

"I don't think I can do that, Claudia." Bann-Je whispered.

"What? No. Don't you dare." Claudia growled furtively.

She found herself growling at an empty space. Bann-Je had been there a moment ago, where had that confounded lizard gone? She found herself hating his ability to disappear like that. What had gotten into those three? She blamed herself for giving them too much autonomy. What were those three thinking? Why were they doing this? The Thalmor were not nice people but they honored the White-Gold Concordate and so long as everyone played by the rules-

"Ma'am, are you Claudia Vivinicci?" a justiciar demanded.

"What? Uh, yes! I am!" Claudia blurted, startled from her thoughts.

"I know the Nord and Khajiit were dragged away but where is the Argonian?"

"_Confound them all!" _

"I-I do not know." Claudia admitted.

"Ma'am, do not lie to me. I will only ask you one last time. Where is the Argonian?"

"I'm telling you, I don't know." Claudia asserted.

The Thalmor immediately recognized that she was telling the truth.

"Everyone halt! We have a missing person! Someone has escaped!"

Claudia could feel that everything had gone spiraling out of control.

* * *

><p>Sibylla followed Sharza numbly towards the edge of the city. She decided skulking deeper into her hood would help to hide herself and probably steer away any suspicion. Sharza meanwhile moved quickly, dragging the taller woman along until they were at a stable. Once there, Sharza immediately started throwing pieces of armor at her.<p>

"Change, put these on. You must leave this place and look as far different as a Divine priestess as possible."

"How did you get this?" Sibylla demanded, disrobing behind a closed stall and throwing the iron armor on. It was generic, not the best quality equipment but it at least fit her, if maybe a little too tightly. In some ways it reminded her of when she first started off on her own adventures for the first time ages ago.

"Do'Ravier liquidated some Dwarven artifacts of his. Friends of mine took care of the rest. Sharza was supposed to meet all of you in the Cathedral but your coming with them changed the plans a little." Sharza admitted, tossing her a one handed steel ax, round shield and shortsword as well.

"This was all certain friends were willing to donate." Sharza shrugged.

"Are you two...resistance fighters?" Sibylla inquired carefully.

"No. Victims who got tired of being treated like rugs. We've become experts at this."

"So did you two really study at the Synod then? Is he really a battlemage and are you really a self made spellthief?" Sibylla asked, strapping the shield on.

"Those much are true. No one asked why we left Elsweyr."

"I thought it was so you could study."

"That is a good assumption we let people hold onto, an excuse, not the reason. Hurry, you must get on your horse and leave this place. Go to Hammerfell. No place is safe for you in the Empire anymore." Sharza rushed.

"Wait? I _must _go to Hammerfell? What about everyone else?" Sibylla demanded.

"You are like Sharza and Do'Ravier know, except pesky Thalmor pay more attention to Nords than mischievous Khajiit who all look the same to them. Sharza is sorry, Sibylla, but if you stay in the Empire you will be hunted. Thalmor are not allowed in Hammerfell, though. You will able to rebuild there. Sharza, Do'Ravier and some fun friends of Sharza will take care of the others." Sharza grinned though her eyes had no mirth in them.

Sibylla was silent, realizing the Khajiit was right and she had no choice in the matter. Yesterday the man she loved had died and today she had become a fugitive. She hoped this freefall had a bottom somewhere.

"I'll leave and I'll go to Hammerfell, even if it means leaving all my things behind." Sibylla said, painfully regretting that she did not have Head Reaper.

"But I think you owe me an explanation of what really happened."

"Ach, very well, Sharza will tell you if you get on the horse and start walking towards the gate. Also, throw dirt on your face, look like mean sellsword."

* * *

><p>"Let me tell you a story, Delamar." Do'Ravier announced, dragging the wounded Thalmor further into the alley. He propped the man up against the wall and took a seat on an abandoned wooden box. Delamar only glared at him.<p>

"Don't linger, Khajiit. They'll find me from the trail you left." Delamar snarled, noticing the tracks in the snow that led up to them.

"Don't worry, you will be dead by then. Now, storytime; I promise you'll enjoy it."

Delamar growled, clutching the grievous wound in his abdomen but had no other choice.

"Back in Elsweyr there was this Khajiiti girl named Nadera. She was a beautiful girl, even when she was young. She came from a family of merchants and was training as an acolyte in one of the temples from a young age. She grew more beautiful as she got older and she was sweet to all she met, everyone loved her."

"I get the point."

"Shut up, no you don't. Anyway, she took a liking to this awkward, scrawny, orphan out in the streets. No one understood what she saw in him, his fur was always messed up and muddy and he could barely survive on his own. Whatever it was, she made sure he was taken care of, an extra portion of food from the handouts, making sure he stayed away from the skooma peddlers. It was a shock to everyone when she saved enough money to pay for this studies with a group of mages. While no one else saw it, she saw a mage in him."

"Oh gods, you're talking about yourself." Delamar groaned disgustedly.

"How astute of you. Anyway, they got older, fell in love and began talking about marriage. He was almost done with his studies on being a battlemage since he had a knack for explosives but he was lagging behind in his healing. She was meeting with her family who had come back from a trip to Skyrim with several of their hired hands when a Thalmor soldier accused one of the Nord helpers of being a Talos worshipper from a bad comment. It got ugly. She tried to calm things down but one thing led to another and soon the soldier ran her through with his sword right there in front of her family."

"A pity you were too stupid to comprehend your healing magic quicker. Your whore would probably still be alive."

Do'Ravier frowned but otherwise ignored that taunt.

"You're not completely incorrect. I arrived just as she was dying. The wound was too much and I was too late. Nadera died in my arms."

"I assume there's a point to your story?"

"Don't worry, I'm getting to the part you'll love. You see, I did not know what to do. My beneficiaries, her family, had a daughter to bury and it did not feel right to continue to accept from them. I was lost, I was angry, it was night and then I spotted the soldier and his team that killed her. So I lost it. It was the first time I felt true rage. All that practice with spear and staff became useful. Maybe too useful. See, I gutted them open without meaning to. I was ashamed about how messy it was and wanted to leave some sort of explanation, so I left a one word note on the nearby wall using their blood as ink. It really helped relieve the anger. I decided to do it again. And again. And again."

Delamar's eyes suddenly went wide as realization began to sink in like so many icy fingers in his chest.

"Yes, the one word note was 'Oppressor.' You see, I wanted to tell you this story because I knew you had been searching for the Mad Cat. Do'Ravier must congratulate you! You caught him, you caught the Mad Cat. And then the Mad Cat caught you."

Do'Ravier plunged his spear into Delamar's chest and then yanked it out in a torrent of red. Delamar had only just expired when the Khajiit took a bag from under his robe and emptied its contents on Delamar's corpse. The mixture was one one part salt, another part charcoal and three parts fire salts. The powder lit up quickly under a flame spell and when others would follow the trail to this alley, all they would find would be blackened bones and ashes.

No sooner was that over did Do'Ravier disappear down a nearby sewer drain. His eyes flashed in the darkness as he searched for the proper path. There was still much to do and he would have to remain out of sight. However, he had not traveled far when he heard footsteps approaching him in the dark.

"It took you long enough." Bann-Je's hoarse voice broke the silence.

"What are you doing down here? I was going to come back for you in the cathedral."

"I had to disappear and break away. I could do more for our fellow priests free than in chains. Unfortunately, it caused some unforeseen problems." Bann-Je admitted.

"What happened?"

"They marched them all out and brought them to be interrogated and jailed at their headquarters. Every last one of them."

Do'Ravier scratched his chin for a moment.

"This complicates things...but also makes it simpler. Come, we have a lot of work to do."


	23. Chapter 23

_Have you fallen? No, you have not failed. Get up and fight again. Should you fall, get up and fight again. Keep going until you have triumphed. You have only failed should you decide not to get up again._

* * *

><p>There were many ways to describe this place. Cold, freezing, dank, drafty, depressing, dark. The cells of the prison that was in the Thalmor HQ was larger than Claudia could have guessed, not that she ever wanted to. She never got a good look anyway and even still, she was able to gather that it was quite sizeable. The place was filthy and the cells too far away from the heat of the hearth. A pile of mouldy straw served as an inadequate bed while a decrepit bucket functioned as a privy.<p>

It filled her with anger. This was wrong. Screw whatever similitude Delamar tried to make between her, her team and the Inquisition she worked for to him and his justiciars. They made sure the people they incarcerated and eliminated were guilty and did not hold them without a cause. This? This was madness, oppression on a wide scale. They were up to something, Claudia could feel it.

However, that paled in comparison to the last description that seemed to hang dripping, eerily over the whole ordeal; fear. Terror seemed to fill every pore of this place and threatened to choke your throat trying to slither down your chest.

She could hear their screaming. The weeping, choked cries and wails of her fellow priests and acolytes whose only crime was associating with _accused _Talos worshippers. She bet Do'Ravier and Sibylla were not even sincere in their confession. Knowing those two, they were just trying to get a point across. Claudia scowled angrily at that thought. If the rumors were true, they must have done something violent somewhere in the city streets. The Thalmor refused to talk about. She demanded to see Delamar on the matter but he didn't show either.

But there was something heart rending about hearing your fellow prisoners _scream _in agony and realize that you feel partially responsible for it. She couldn't even see them either, could not offer any words of condolences or promise vengeance. She was stuck in here with the rest of them. There was also one last thought that was slowly driving her mad.

Why hadn't they come to torture her yet?

* * *

><p>Two conspirators met in shadowed gloom away from prying eyes. They spoke in quiet voices that just recently became accustomed to such tones. They moved slowly if at all, trying to become like the environment around them. Secluded from any who would notice, they shared a hushed conversation.<p>

"What you said to Delamar, is any of that true? What you did?"

"You heard that?"

"I'm an assassin. You know I can disappear and be one with your own shadow."

"It is true."

"You never struck me as the deranged killer."

"I was angry and then I stopped. After I felt enough was enough and the message got across."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"No."

"Then there is hope for you yet. Are you sure this plan is going to work, the one that will get them out of there?"

"It's the only plan we have and in essence, their only hope."

"Divines help us."

* * *

><p>The days started to string together. Was it even a day? She couldn't tell. It was hard to measure time in this place. There was barely any light that she could see, the windows were too far away. Their captors lit torches but only sometimes. She was sure they occasionally skipped giving them meals. Not even the periods of time that they would be tortured was regular.<p>

Gods, the confounded _torture_.

She could hear them screaming from time to time. Priests, priestesses even the young acolytes no older than twelve were sometimes tormented. She couldn't tell what exactly though she was becoming convinced she could hear the sizzling of flesh sometimes. She even heard the voice of Tacitus howling. That had only happened once or twice though. She did not like the sound of how his ended. How long ago was that? She wasn't sure because she couldn't measure time.

And they never touched her. Not once. It was driving her to new levels of rage and anger that she did not know she had. It was the only thing keeping her focused as she laid on her side, curled up in a ball in her cell. Usually she lied there, blinking only when she had to. She had to make them think they broke her. She just needed the barest fraction of an opportunity and then she would make them pay for every blow, every cut, every slight against one of the innocent that they had committed all for their convoluted agenda.

She had to think that, to convince herself that they had not in fact broke her.

She heard a shrill scream echo through her cell bars. She made one more vow to smite them when she got out. Oh gods, please let her get out.

* * *

><p>Alaviera walked from the courtyard towards the main keep of their base. It was dark out tonight. Snow fell lightly from the heavens as the clouds above blocked out the moon and stars. For their part, the Thalmor were uneasy. Delamar had been slain right under their noses and a whole guard had been wiped out. It was anyone's guess how that happened and they were still trying to figure that one out. To make matters worse, the Wayrest guards had no leads on the matter either. That did not even include that they had a whole cathedral's worth of Imperial Cult staff in their dungeons and now they were torturing them for some unknown purpose. They lacked direction without Delamar.<p>

And they were still awaiting orders for who was next to ascend to command in his place. The Aldmeri Dominion would send in a replacement soon enough. In the meantime, a loose body of the more senior officials were trying to keep things organized. There was something wrong about the whole thing. She just could not understand how Delamar and his guard was killed without anyone noticing. Granted, from what she had seen working with the Vigilants, few people if any in Wayrest were going to be inclined to volunteer information to them. She couldn't blame them.

Even more horrific was the fact that whatever got Delamar, it scorched his body to bone and ash. At least, they assumed that it was Delamar's remains. His was the only body they couldn't identify in the carnage and a blood trail from the original site led to that charred heap. No one could be certain as to what exactly killed him if it wasn't the fire. What would drive someone or something to do that? Right there in the middle of the city no less?

Alaviera hesitated before stepping inside the keep and out of the cold. She looked up towards the ramparts and wondered if there seemed to be fewer torches, and therefore guards, than usual. Come to think of it, she could not see one at all. That was odd. She would have to look into that later. She shrugged as she stepped inside. It was quite possible that the watches were being changed or that they had all gone on one side of the wall at the moment.

Truth be told her concerns were not completely unfounded. One of the guards up on the walls started to wonder the same thing. He could see no other torch lights and there should have been at least several more in the night. Squinting so that he could peer into the gloom, he found nothing amiss. Still, where was the rest of the watch?

His hand fell to the glass dagger at his waist. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was something wrong about this night. The snow muffled noise, the dark in the air. Not even the usual sounds of the evening forest seemed to reach his ears. And still, there was nothing. Was he becoming paranoid?

He felt something hit him and before he quite knew what was going on he felt the cold of stone and freezing snow on his stomach. He thought he cried out but a fuzzy thing was blocking his mouth and several sharp claws were digging into his cheeks. He heard a giggling, sinister voice whisper in his ear.

"Sharza sees that you have a pretty glass dagger. Can Sharza have it?"

A blade plunged into the back of his neck and it was all darkness from there. Another body joined the others in being thrown off the fort ramparts.

* * *

><p>Alaviera could hear the group of senior officers discoursing and occasionally arguing further in the keep. She was on break and she did not appreciate the noise. It was disturbing her meal. That in itself was mild fare enough. Salted cabbage, beef and a boiled potato was not the most comforting food, especially since it had been awhile since the contents on her plate had been heated. At least the tea was warm.<p>

She heard their bickering hit a crescendo.

"_For the love of Phynaster, shut up!" _

She sighed and finished what was left of her food. As she sat letting it digest, she wondered if there was anything she was forgetting before she turned in for the night. She'd have to polish her equipment first and made sure there was no moisture on it. Ugh, things just seemed so disorganized without Delamar barking at them and keeping them organized.

An unholy and bone rattling roar echoed across the keep and shook them from their feet. All of the Thalmor glared at each other as they picked themselves up while several yelled questions and protests. Alaviera then realized that she forgot about her former plan to check on the watch. Grabbing her sword, she rushed for the door. She flung it wide open and gazed out into the courtyard. There was nothing that could have prepared her for what she saw. In fact, she was not sure what it was before her. Nonetheless, there was no denying one very blatant fact.

It was huge.

The thing, whatever it was, stood twelve feet tall, steam, smoke and sparks bellowing and belching from vents in its apparently mechanical frame. Alaviera was vaguely reminded of a Dwarven construct but those things never ventured from their ruins. Also, they didn't have...THAT scrawled on its brestplate.

A symbol associated with the Talos was burnt to its front.

"What in Oblivion is that?" one of the soldiers next to her demanded.

"I...I don't know."

What they didn't talk about was the legends of Tiber Septim, the man who became Talos. During his reign the emperor had a powerful construct called Numidium with which he used to help carve out what would become the Cyrodillic Empire. It was of Dwarven origin...and here was something that closely resembled an avatar. And it was barreling right towards them. Its purposeful steps sounded as it smashed through the gates, rock and masonry flying in all directions. One of its limbs ended in a massive claymore. The other became a reaping, ax like scythe.

"Form up the guards and stop that thing. I have to warn the others." Alaviera warned the soldier.

She never bothered to check and see just how they were going to accomplish that and she did not care. She never had any confidence of them being able to stop it in the first place.

* * *

><p>Down in the dungeons, dust billowed down from the ceiling with every heavy footstep they heard. At least, Claudia thought they were footsteps. That was the only thing she could think of them being. It was jarring, though. What was that thing making so much noise above them? Why weren't the guards stopping it? Were they trying and failing? If so, then what in Tamriel was out there? The worst part was being locked in a cage.<p>

She could hear the others in their cells. Most were too weak or broken to panic though she could hear a few hollering. There was something inhumane about being locked in a cell with imminent danger barreling your way and no way to do anything about it.

Then she could hear yelling and screaming coming from the outside. Those definitely had to belong to the guards. It was impossible to hear exactly what they were saying. Nonetheless, Claudia figured that was a pointless exercise. Anyone who has heard it knows the sound of a mortal scream being extinguished into a final gasp before no more breaths are taken.

Claudia did not care about that. She wanted them all to die. However, she did care that the sounds of heavy things were steadily getting closer to her. The screaming had stopped but the thunder of the footfalls were getting closer. Knowing it was useless but unable to contain her fear, Claudia backed into the furthest corner of the cell that she could. It didn't do her much for it was only a few pitiful steps.

The ceiling above them opened up with a thunderous crunch. A deafening roar followed as rocks fell to the floor while the spine tingling sound of metal scraping against stone hit their ears. Claudia saw a burst of light and the noise of so much fire hit her ears before she heard what sounded like so much metal collapsing to the ground.

And then...all was silent...except for the sound of scraping and rapid movements. What was that? As she breathed raggedly, trying to keep from hyperventilating, Claudia realized she was going to remember this as one of her least favorite nights.

* * *

><p>Alaviera rushed higher up the keep but found no one. It was frightening to say the least. Where had everyone gone? Was she the last one left alive? Vaguely in the back of her mind she understood that she had ceased to hear the sounds of the large dwarven construct but adrenaline forbade her from stopping. She needed to find her superiors. She needed-<p>

Alaviera exploded out one of the doors and into the cold in an instant. She wanted to get back to her feet and catch her breath but quickly found that was impossible. She was pinned to the ground, something was hunched over her, planting her face into the snow. She promptly felt cold, scaly hands latch calmly on the back of her head and chin. She heard a whisper in her ear.

"Do you recognize this voice?"

"Y-yes." Alaviera squeaked. There was no mistaking that it was Bann-Je even if she could not see him.

"Then you know how bad your situation is with your head in my grasp like this, right?"

"Yes." she whimpered.

"I have a question for you. Answer it carefully, for your life hangs on it. I always wondered, was there someone among us that you were ordered to execute?"

"...Yes."

"...I take it you failed in doing so."

"Yes."

She heard his tongue flick in and out of his mouth as if trying to smell the slightest scent of a lie in the air.

"Well, then I guess I'll have to fail in this task. Go back to your leaders, dissuade them from continuing any more actions against the people of Wayrest." Squints his Eye ordered darkly.

"And what of the keep? How do I explain what happened?"

"I don't know, make something up or blame that machine."

Alaveria was going to ask but screamed as Squints his Eye promptly tossed her over the rampart. She hit the snow with a heavy thud, feeling the wind violently knocked from her lungs for a second time. It took a moment for her to realize but she was still alive if battered. She didn't linger for long. She understood she had been given one last chance at life and one that was grudgingly given.

* * *

><p>She heard those iron hinges of the door creak open. But they weren't her own. It did not matter, the ceiling was open and someone or something was orderly opening the cell doors. It didn't sound like it was the Thalmor either. It was all too quiet, much too quiet for her liking. But Claudia had no choice but to wait for her own to open. Her restless mind wondered what it was. Did the Divines hear their prayers and decide to open them with their own hands?<p>

She jumped when a feline figure scrambled outside her own bars and expertly set the locks aside. Claudia momentarily forgot the chill she felt in the air, her robes too thin to fight off the cold as she tried to regain her nerves from the shock of someone startling her. She tried to figure out wht she was seeing.

"S-Sharza?" Claudia blathered.

"Yes." Sharza replied quickly.

"W-...What are you doing here?" Claudia demanded, feeling herself get angry.

She heard others approaching. Before she knew it, she saw Do'Ravier appear from the gloom. He clutched a clearly defunct Dwarven mechanism in his paws. Looking up, she saw the remnants of what had been the large construct.

"Were you controlling that?" Claudia snapped.

"Badly. Imprompt magic and poorly understood technology won't get you far but it got the job done. Can you lead?" Do'Ravier asked.

His face whipped to the side when Claudia slapped him hard across the face.

"Sharza remembers she has one last chore to do. She will leave you." Sharza said quickly, excusing herself from the situation.

"How dare you." Claudia growled through clench teeth, glaring at him.

"Do'Ravier feels like he might have mixed some context here." the Khajiit growled back.

It was that moment that Bann-Je re-materialized from the shadows. Far from shock, Claudia also flashed the anger in her eyes his direction too.

"Both of you! You both disobeyed me! You took took off on your initiative! WE LOST ARCHON TACITUS! HE DIED!" Claudia screamed, feeling herself lose control.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier both frowned, that was not news they wanted to hear.

"And you two just did what entered your heads and now that you're done you want to just pass it back to me? What are we going to do, you two? Where's Sibylla?" Claudia hammered, tears running down her face. This was not how it was suppose to go. Now there was some Daedric priest out there possibly spreading disease, herself suffering from sort of mutant vampirism, and all of their resources had been shot to Oblivion.

"Claudia, we had to get her out of here. She's making her way to Hammerfell. Sharza had some smugglers run up the coast near here. We're going to take you all to the ship and make our way across the bay and into Hammerfell." Do'Ravier explained patiently.

"Y-you...that's it? You're shipping us all off to Hammerfell? You didn't bother to ask? Just replant our lives-"

"We don't have a choice, Claudia!" Do'Ravier shouted.

"We always have a choice!" she screamed.

She snapped in Bann-Je's direction when she saw him step towards her.

"I'm sorry, but this is necessary"

Bann-Je brought his palms to his mouth and blew. Claudia saw a cloud of powder splash in her face and then everything went...

"She will sleep for a few hours." Bann-Je said, wiping the powder from his paws as he and Do'Ravier watched Claudia's sleeping form sprawled in the snow.

Do'Ravier massaged his brows in frustration. None of this was supposed to happen like this. None of this should have happened and it was all spiraling out of control. It was written on every stitch of land around them. This fort was in ruins. The prisoners, their former co-workers, were dazed and confused. Their leader was unconscious at their feet of their own doing. They weren't in control, they were simply putting out fires.

"Pick her up and lead the others out of here. Sharza and I need to put this place to the torch."

* * *

><p>That evening, the Thalmor headquarters burned while the broken remains of a Dwarven construct sat in its courtyard. A lone Thalmor soldier the only survivor to carry the message back to her superiors while a crowd of disillusioned and frightened refugees struck for a ship to get them to the only place they would have a chance in finding safety. When the Thalmor would arrive, they would not be sure what to do with it. Whatever had been in that place had done their hardest to burn the bodies of whatever soldiers they had there. Agent Alaviera was be reassigned back to Alinor for lack of ideas to do with her. Either way, they did not want news of this incident getting out. Delamar had been a loose canon and his methods had been a bit too extreme. Life at Wayrest would have to go back to normal. They would have to plan for different things...<p>

The road from Wayrest leading south the Hammerfell was littered with the battered bodies of thieves and bandits who thought it wise to attack a lone Nord. Such savagery only reflected the woman's frustration and in a way, her mourning. She was on the run for a second time and in this instance she could have very well be fleeing from those who would want her dead. All what laid before her were the unforgiving sands of the Dak'fron Desert.

On a ship heading to Hammerfell and crossing the listless winter waters of the bay, a Khajiit battlemage thanked his partner in crime for all she had sacrificed. She reminded him that the woman he had once loved had been her sister as well. An Argonian sharpened his blades and peered into his world of shades and gray. He did not know what the future had for him, three voices competing for attention in his head and the experience of both extermination and religious leadership under his bloodied belt. An Imperial woman, distraught and disillusioned, paid no words or attention to the ones she had once called her friends. She could hear their heartbeats and knew that they were breaking but she did not know what to do. They were entrusted with an important task and there was still a mage out there with a dark agenda and now no one would be pursuing him. Far more may die from him than the innocents lost in this senseless madness.

Claudia said nothing to them when the boat arrived. She disappeared into the crowds and was soon lost in the Hammerfell sands...

**End of Book I**


	24. Chapter 24

**Where the Sands Swallow**

* * *

><p>Claudia gazed out into the sands just beyond the city of Sentinel. The wind blew past her, a relentless blast furnace that stopped for no one. It was as ancient and endless as the sands of the Alik'r, the very desert that was all around her. Everything about this place was overwhelming, the heat, the sand, the wind and the sun. She pulled the cloth cowl she had further over her head to shield her eyes.<p>

She had been shipped over here to Hammerfell a year ago. All because of that bloody cat and lizard and that stupid head strong Nord woman who never could turn down a fight. Several stubborn actions and a few disobeyed orders and a whole Cathedral was ruined and her life was turned upside down. For all practical purposes, she was a fugitive of the Empire, always a suspect for the Thalmor. All because of that cat, the lizard and the Nord.

She shook her head. She had figured out some time ago that they were actually not to blame for the whole matter. She was being unfair throwing all the blame on them. Nonetheless, it was easier to do so. Blaming two whole political systems that she did not fully understand was a little too abstract for her. But that had all happened a year ago. She had moved on and stitched together a new life. She had not seen Do'Ravier, Bann-Je or Sibylla for a year. They had all gone their separate ways.

And all she was left were memories and scars. It was hard finding an Imperial Cult temple to work with. Although the Redguards of Hammerfell had numerous followers of both the Imperial Cult and their local pantheon, many religious members were suspicious of lone Imperial woman looking to serve with a very vague backstory and a dazed look in her eyes. She had been able finally convince a small temple to take her on and even then they relegated her to tending to their flocks. At least she was able to put her archery to good use. The work was long and tiring under the hot sun and she was mostly alone or with few other people the vast majority of the time. It only let her help brood on the memories and mementos of a time gone by.

She still had her old bow and rapier. The lizard and cat had been thoughtful enough to retrieve them for her from the ruins of prison before they made their escape. She still had those nasty scars, twin fissures, one etched in her stomach with its mirror on her back. It was a grotesque reminder of where she had a run in with a vampire. And got run through for that matter. She could still hear heartbeats. It almost bothered her how proficient she was becoming at listening for them, practically feeling them. It certainly helped with locating all the livestock and for sensing when any jackals or wolves were on the prowl.

She did not get to see her reflection often, usually only in the shallow standing pools of water near an oasis or a small running stream out here in the Alik'r. She noticed a few small but distinct wrinkles starting to form, much too young for her age. It certainly had to do with being under the sun all the time. And maybe the stress from those few but intense months of fleeing and then trying to find a new life to hide in. Her amber blonde hair had grown even lighter, also probably from the sun until it had become more of a golden color. Her eyes still kept that faint hint of pink to them. At least she could still count herself as strong and fit.

Claudia looked over when she heard the sound of feet running up to her. She heard the quickening of his pulse anyway a long time before. She still had to act like she did not know. She decided it was Ilik, one of the younger shepherd boys. He was helpful it not always competent. Like most Redguards he had dark skin under a shock of jet black hair which always seemed to be in a mess. His limbs were lanky and long, not exactly in proportion to the rest of his body but he was still growing.

"Miss Vivinicci, Miss Vivinicci!" he called breathlessly, rushing up to her.

"What is it, Ilik?" Claudia asked, trying to sound genuinely unaware of the situation.

"Jackals! Jackals coming from over there!" the boy panted, doubling over but pointing in the right direction.

Claudia immediately raised her compound bonemold bow that was never far from her grasp. She could see the canine predators though they were quite some distance off. They trotted at a steady pace heading towards their direction. If they got too close they would spook the goats and sheep they were in charge of and then all chaos would break out. Claudia shook her head. Many of the local predators had learned to avoid her little herd with an especially generous distance. The jackals always needed reminders, though.

Her bow was taut, string protesting that it would not be pulled back any further. Claudia made it look far too easy, sighting her target and aiming her bow just so. There was a pause, enough to make Ilik wonder if she would ever fire. The bow sung a single loud note.

There was an abrupt howl before one of the jackals was upended with an arrow quivering inside its skull. Reminded of the ranged danger, the other two dogs quickly turned tail and sprinted off. Claudia could command an impressive distance with her bow.

"Good shot, Miss Vivinicci!" Ilik sang gleefully.

"Thank you, Ilik. Now please retrieve that arrow for me."

Claudia found herself enjoying the nights more and more. It got very dark out in the Alik'r when the sun went down. People who didn't know what they were doing were more liable to die and be swallowed by the endless sands out here in the seemingly eternal desert. If you know the land and paced yourself, you would know the small patches of vegetation where the flocks could feed, the watering holes where water could be found. It was a simple life but at least it was much more bearable at night.

Sitting near one of the small campfires near Ilik, Claudia continued looking off into the distance so not to ruin her night sight. In the end it would not really matter. She could hear the heartbeats of jackals and other prey a mile off. The other Redguards and helping hands wondered how she was so lackadaisical about evening precautions to prevent scorpions and snakes from curling up into personal belongings. She did not tell them that she could hear the tiny thumping hearts of those creatures too. They also made fun of her for constantly needing to be in her billowing robes and keeping her hands light leather gloves. Her alabaster skin burned severely in the sun, a painful lesson she learned the first few days she was in Hammerfell. Some even claimed you could practically watch her skin turn red within moments of being exposed. She was grateful for these desert robes, keeping the sun off of her during the day and helping her to keep warm at night.

Too much had changed in such a short time. She reflected on this as she gazed up at the twinkling stars set in their many constellations. The twin moons hung overhead. She wondered what had happened to those three, the Nord, Khajiit and Argonian. But those were bygone days, a time that might as well have been an eternity before. They had all split ways in what would not be described as being on the best foot. She had shunned the Argonian and Khajiit the whole trip to Hammerfell and left them without saying a word. She had not seen nor heard how the Nordic warrioress left even prior to that.

Besides, she was no Vigilant anymore. Those days were long gone. She did not know if anyone ever found that Mage of Peryite but she decided that was not her responsibility. Nothing had gone wrong and it had been a year since everything went to Oblivion back in High Rock. It was a bitter though that left something reminiscent to bile in her mouth. She had enjoyed being a Vigilant and priestess. Were the last few months of her career spent chasing a ghost, her jumping at shadows? Maybe there was a good reason that she was no longer working for the Order.

But here she was, a nameless keeper of sheep and goats out in one of the most unforgiving and easily forgotten places in Tamriel. It was not how she saw herself spending most of her life but where else could she go? She hugged her bow tighter to herself, trying to keep the chill out, forcing herself not to look into the fire. Perhaps what bothered her the most was not what happened in the past, nor the nagging doubts that the heartbeats, the fact she burnt easily in the sunlight, or even faint but definite fascination with blood was her slowly succumbing to vampirism. No, she could live with that. What bothered her the most was that she could still hear the faint whispers of Stendarr and Azura in her head.

She could not divine what they were speaking oh so softly into her ear. Sometimes she wondered if it was just her imagination. Sometimes she wondered if she was just slowly going crazy. Unfortunately, she had learned a long time ago not to dismiss such voices. She knew them too well. There was nothing intelligible about what they were saying. Nonetheless, she could never forget those voices.

What were they trying to tell her? What were they trying to remind her of? Why wouldn't they just leave her alone? Did it really matter? She put aside such nagging thoughts when she could though. It was easy to do so out here where the sands inevitably swallow and bury everything. Claudia got up, her bow in hand and arrow ready as she started to walk off stand closer to the flocks.

"Where are you going, Miss Vivincci?" Ilik asked curiously.

"I think there are jackals about, Ilik. Don't mind me." Claudia lied.

She could hear their heartbeats out there in these endless sands.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note<em>: _Yeah, sorry guys. You know that part where your life suddenly gets busy with a dozen things that need doing? Yeah, that's exactly what happened with the passing of summer. _


	25. Chapter 25

_In the deserts, you are most aware of what you are made of_

_Without water, you will surely return to the dust that you are_

_Act accordingly_

* * *

><p>Days went by without a hitch. There were jackals to kill and the occasional desert cat (cougars usually, never had a problem with the two legged cats yet) but otherwise, things were normal, almost lazy. Claudia had to find ways to challenge herself, like waiting till the last minute before letting an arrow fly or even trying to launch the arrow from a different spot on the bow than what she was used to. It didn't help. The predators kept dying, the herds remained intact and she and the other shepherds continued on their usual path. She had to admit, she was finding the monotony a lot more mind grinding than usual.<p>

Old Harper was the shepherd in charge of the expedition and had decades of experience herding the sheep and goats through the desert. Old Harper was covered with numerous and deep wrinkles from his many years working under the sun. His body was long and lanky, his eyes seemed to be constantly squinting. Nonetheless, while he was probably well into his golden years, he could keep up with the rest of the crowd, and often outpaced some of them. His mind and eyes were sharp and his body still spry. He was also rather handy with his staff, rapping the young hands that tended to sneak into the food back or spend too many trips to the water skin. No one doubted that he could probably knock the brain out of a jackal in one hit, a boast he liked to make often. If there any stories others might be tempted to call him out on, it was about his many supposed exploits of when he traveled as a bard with his trusty harp throughout Tamriel. That was supposedly how he got his moniker.

Old Harper liked to keep the younger shepherds entertained with all of his life stories when they were on the move and it was easy to watch the whole of the flock. The old Redguard had many life stories and Claudia was certain she had not heard too many stories repeated more than twice. She sometimes wondered how long the man had been alive since she figured with such age came greater opportunities to do more outlandish things. Or he could have easily been making a few up. It could have been a combination of both.

Claudia only half paid attention to his stories. She was more interested in making sure no members of the flock were carelessly wandering off. They were easier to deal with than people. After a while she felt herself growing rather uncomfortable. The sands were growing whiter and they only served to further reflect the aggravatingly harsh light of the sun. Her throat felt parched and she felt a biting thirst that demanded attention.

The waterskin was free for all but was carefully watched by Old Harper. Anyone who did not learn to discipline themselves in how much they took, or made too many frequent trips to it, was bound to get a scolding and possibly a sharp poke, from the old man. It was anyone's guess how Old Harper managed to discipline himself from taking too much water. The elderly Redguard often liked to joke he was half dust himself and didn't need so much water.****  
><strong>**

Pulling up to the skin, Claudia helped herself to a drag. She promised herself it would only be a swallow or two. She told herself this but soon felt the familiar prod of that staff hitting her back. She stopped and shot Old Harper a sharp look.

"Don't look so crossed at me, young lady. I'd stop you sooner but we're getting back towards Sentinel. That's the only reason I'm letting you get away with how much you just drank. I best not be seeing you come back to that skin anytime soon, though." Harper explained. Claudia wondered how much she really did drink. And why did this thirst seem like it was not slackened at all? That bothered her.

That afternoon they stopped for a break and tents were hastily erected. There was no point in trying to traverse the desert during the heat of the day when the sun was at its zenith. It did not matter that they could practically see the outskirts of Sentinel. Old Harper was insistent that they would reach the city that evening before dusk and claimed it was foolish to try and double up and travel during the day. No one was in the mood to argue with him. Claudia only wondered why that biting thirst had not gone away. She tried to control herself but she planned on draining a whole well when she got into the city. Thankful for the shade of the tent, she was surprised to see Ilik come shuffling in, cradling his hand.

"What's wrong?" Claudia asked curiously.

"Tripped and cut my hand on a rock. It's not bad but I need some linen bandages." Ilik announced as he helped himself to the medical chest.

Claudia noticed the rich, redness of the wound. The blood was already starting to clot, a dark crimson and yet it was still wet, thick. She could feel the beating underneath, the pulsing heat that promised of more blood under the wound. She found herself panting. She could practically taste it in the air and it spurned an odd hunger the clenched and coiled deep within her. That blood, she needed it, it was as if a silent stomach within her growled without noise at its sight.

"Is something wrong, Miss Vivinicci?" Ilik asked.

"What?" Claudia sputtered, awakening from her reverie, destroying the fixation she had on the wound.

"You were staring, ma'am." Ilik said.

"Uh...just...wanted to make sure it didn't look bad. You'll be fine. Just bandage it up quickly. And leave." Claudia grumbled.

Gods, what was wrong with her?

She tried not to let it bother her as the hours passed. She tried to occupy her mind with the task before her as she helped to take down the tarps of the hastily erected tents and get the herds together. It took a little over an hour but they were moving again, the worst of the overhead sun gone as it started to make it descent in the sky. No matter how much she tried to focus on the task ahead, of keeping the livestock from wandering or simply tallying the distance between them and the city, she could not vanquish that heavy feeling of guilt and fear within her soul. Was she losing herself? How long did she have before she succumbed?

The shepherds were accustomed to wandering the city, visiting the sights after their livestock had been locked away. Claudia found a quiet spot at a tavern table, nursing a generous goblet of wine. A lot was swirling around in her head. All things accounted for, she was in a sorry state. What had she done for this past year? The only thing she had to say for herself was that she had wandered the sands watching dumb livestock and avoiding their dung. She once hunted the undead and took down daedra and now she was reduced to hunting mindless dogs. She was not going to be going anywhere in society either. Even the Thalmor had agents in Hammerfell. They were undercover of course but the Thalmor were always watching and would be more than happy to put a blade in the back of any enemy of their empire. No one would mind a fugitive Imperial woman dead from some lowlife. And then there was her other problem.

It had taken a year but she could see the writing on the wall. Her skin seemed to burn more and more easily as time went on. The sound of heartbeats in her head was becoming more and more maddening. This wine was doing nothing to quench that thirst, that hunger. A flare of anger and frustration went through her and she nearly hurled it across the tavern. It took a great exercise of will not to do that. Upset, she slammed her payment on the table and quickly left. She had no clue where she would go, becoming more and more aware that she was in fact lost and tilting on the edge of panic.

Stepping out into the streets, she wandered the city listlessly, unsure of where to go or what to do. She made sure to avoid the areas frequented by the other shepherds and herders. She thought of the jackals driven mad by hunger and how they savagely attacked without any regard for their lives or even the well being of others. She had seen the wild dogs turn on each other if even one of their own fell or became wounded in a particularly bad season where they could not find food. She realized that could very well become her someday. She thought on how she noticed and fixated on Ilik's wound. What if she had given in? Would she have torn a child apart just to feed on them? She remembered stories from her days with the Vigilants. That was how freshly turned vampires operated while still being integrated in society.

Not her. She would not be one of them.

The answer became brazenly obvious of what she had to do. It saddened her, it frightened her and it probably was not even the right thing to do but she had no other options. She left the city on a lonely walk beyond the gates. She went in no particular direction, she only made sure that there was no one following her and that there were none to see her. She wandered for quite some time, an aimless walk with a permanent destination. When her mind finally told her it was time to stop, she realized that she was quite some distance from the city again. The ocean was more than a stone's throw ways off and there was nothing but sand in all directions. She would not be missed here. This was where the sands swallowed. They always did.

It only took some time to figure out what exactly she had to do. It puzzled her as to the exact extent of how far the vampirism had spread. She was not sure just how much of herself was mortal and how much had turned over. A simple solution formulated in her mind. She remember hearing one of the more sadistic inquisitors come up with it when she used to be a Vigilant. She pulled a flask that she had concocted herself buying one simple ingredient from the city. The flask contained a slurry of supplied the silver powder herself.

She sat in the sand a while contemplating it all. She almost laughed at the thought of the silver powder. It was a relic from her days as a Vigilant. She had always kept a pouch of the powder on her at all times. You never knew when you would need to coat your weapon in it since the undead and other demonic things would decide to rear their ugly heads. She flinched at that thought realizing that this time it was something inside her that was undead and if she did not take care of it soon then someone else would and who knows how many innocent people would suffer in the process. She had to do this. Now. She had to be courageous. Besides, she had nothing else left anymore. She had disappeared into the Hammerfell sands. The pressed clean robes and the respect of a Divine priestess had died that night in the ruins of the Thalmor stronghold up in High Rock. Now all she was was some nameless keeper of sheep. She hated to admit it but she missed those days of being a Vigilant. She never even had a chance to finish that last project and still wondered if anyone caught that mage of Peryite and his supposed schemes. And now she was turning into the very thing she had once sworn to slay.

Killing herself would be making good on that old vow, no matter how long ago it was, no matter how much the circumstances had changed.

There was nothing else to be done. She was more of a hazard than asset to society now, or she was going to be very soon. It was not as if she knew what she was doing with her life anyway. Better to go now rather than end up being one of the very monsters she used to hunt, the ones that killed killed innocents and endangered the strong and daring, challenging the foolish to untimely deaths in the process.

**"What are you doing, Claudia Vivinicci?"**

Claudia stopped, the flask at her lips, tears streaming down her eyes and falling as wasted water into the sands.

**"What are you doing, Claudia?"**

The woman spun around, she knew that voice. She had heard it once before. Suddenly, against her will, the flask shuddered and fought its way out of her grasp, glowing as it did while levitating in the air. The vessel spun itself bottom over top and the toxic brew spilled into the air before solidifying into quicksilver and the rays of the sun. Claudia recognized that avatar. The upturned chalice with liquid flowing from it was the symbol used by the Imperial Cult to represent Stendarr.

**"Was it mercy or justice that you sought from this bottle? It can supply neither."**

"I...I can't-"

**"Indeed you cannot. You cannot do anything, not unless by the grace of the Divines and the turnings of fate. The will of utmost good will be exercised upon the world of Nirn, for injustice walks upon its face and another evil rises. It has gone on too long. Tell me Claudia, was it justice that you tarried, that you did not try to stop it after so long?"**

"I-I don't know...what you're talking about..." Claudia sobbed.

**"Go. Go find them."**

"Find who?"

**"The one called Sibylla a daughter of Skyrim. Find the one named Bann-Je, one who crawled out from the Black Marsh. Find Do'Ravier, a walker of the Elsweyr sands. Find them. Execute this justice and you shall find mercy. Seek first the will of that which is good and then all shall fall into place."**

"But...what am I to find them for?"

**"You know the answer. But should you need it clarified, it shall be revealed to you very soon. Do not seek this brew again. It will surely kill you. The silver will first."**

And with that, the flask became mundane again and landed with a wet plop on the sand. Claudia dropped with it, tears sliding down her face and mixing with the sand to create rivulets of water and mud. It was what she needed but it was also too much. She realized she had seen the easy way out within her grasp and now even that was denied. She had too many questions and not enough answers and yet still here was another direction she was being told to go.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Claudia left the caravan groups. The last anyone of the group saw of her was the archer leaving in her blousy robes, hood over her head, rapier at her hip and the bow over her shoulder. She also left with a bit of a swagger. Old Harper thought the woman must have found something last night because none of them had seen her with that kind of jaunty step either.<p>

Most of it was bravado. Claudia had no idea what exactly she was doing. She had explained to Old Harper everything that he needed to know, the more shadowy parts she left out. As far as the old man was concerned, she had decided on a new course in her life, one where she could better help the Divines. She knew what she wanted to do and was sure in her actions. Ilik took it well. Clearly he was sad that she was going but the Redguards of the cathedral that sent them were all for people venturing off for new things in life. After all, wasn't life an adventure?

Claudia wondered where her first step should be. She considered praying at one of the local temples but decided that would be redundant. Stendarr had already jumped out and grabbed her attention and sent her off. She was no theologian but believed that going back so soon after a revelation might greatly infuriated the Divine of mercy. Besides, it was information she needed. There was only one person she knew in Sentinel who might have the facts she needed, or at least the network to find them.

She needed to find that bastard Sticky.

There were many merchant groups in Sentinel and many of the more established ones had a reputation. Most of them sought out publicity and proud images. One group promised the finest in jewelry that came from all over Tamriel. Another proclaimed the very best in metals, both industrial and precious and the ability to supply any and all of them in a timely manner. The list went on and on but Sticky's group was the stark opposite of everyone else. Sticky's organization did not have a name, they were only known by his moniker and perhaps by his boast that his group could supply anything you wanted whenever you wanted so long as you could pay the price. Anything was a commodity. Such a strong boast tended to make business "a little confusing to the authorities, it's best they not see how everything went. Nothing illegal of course, it's just questions are so troubling and they take up valuable time," to use Sticky's own words.

She had heard of him earlier while she was in Sentinel. Most of the more respectable people did not talk about him though the guards grumbled his name in frustration. In the Redguard tongue he had many names, not all of them were polite. However, "Sticky" was the translated name into the common language of the Cyrodillic empire and since Sticky had a tendency to do business with all kinds of people, near and far, Sticky was how he was known by most everyone. It was the name to drop so that anyone would know who you were talking about.

Simply put, Sticky was the grandmaster of Sentinel's gray market. No one knew why it needed to exist but Sticky liked to say it was because it helped everyone else. Most of the merchant factions would never admit it but at some point or another they had to make a deal with Sticky, a deal that helped elevate them to their position but also ensured they'd never want to make a bad deal with Sticky as well as making sure they helped prevent other people from screwing the wily Redguard over. Sticky had made sure that while there would be mutually assured prosperity, there would also be a generally one sided destruction in the event someone tried to hoodwink Sticky through any means. Claudia shuddered at the thought of going to find him but right now he appeared to be her only option.

She figured she would probably want to bathe afterwards. The rumors were that anyone who made a deal with Sticky usually did want scrub themselves thoroughly after even negotiating, much less making a transaction. In Sticky's defense, he was usually polite about the whole affair. For a fair fee, he was willing to sell you the soap and bathwater you'd need.


	26. Chapter 26

_It is said when eating with Daedra, use a long spoon_

_When dealing with their minions, use a long sword_

* * *

><p>Claudia pulled the hood further over her head just to make sure no part of her skin would directly exposed to the rays. She also tugged at the hem of her sleeves and made sure her gloves securely blanketed her wrists. If there was one part of her body that regularly burned an angry red, it was there where her sleeves and gloves failed to seamlessly protect her. She would usually find a painful, deep crimson band there at the end of the day that burned hotter than a forge. She blinked, trying to rest her eyes from the painful glare of the day. The sun was mercifully setting in the sky.<p>

Resting by the plaza fountain and stared at the door across from her. She was told that beyond that barrier was Sticky's favorite meeting place where he welcomed customers, both new and regular alike. She decided not to go in just yet. She would wait until after the sun had set. She would be in her element when the evening came. In the meantime, she admired the shine of the orange glow of dusk off the smooth tan of the stone and masonry tiles that made up the constructions of the plaza. The glare was still a little strong for her but she ignored the pain. This was the only time she could truly admire the sun anymore when it was growing it's weakest. The the mist of the water felt cool on her back despite the light robes she wore. It was the only place to rest here in the plaza while things were still busy and it also gave a good view of the broad, soothing designs that were painted on them when they were first laid.

She watched the people milling about. The crowds were starting to thin but only a little bit. It was the lull before the hustle of the early evening when people would be free of their daily activities and went out for the streets to relax and catch up with their neighbors. She listened to their countless heartbeats, the collective sound producing a macabre symphony that spoke of the frailty of life. Should one of those instruments go silent it would signal the ending of life where blood ceased to flow and the heart stopped forever. The ex-Vigilant above all people knew just how easily life could be snuffed out. It was a surreal feeling, knowing that the spilling of would eventually dim a person's consciousness until eventually the darkness would overtake them and they would lose all grasp on the light of living.

And with the last embers of the sun fading under the horizon, Claudia removed the hood from over her hair so that it spilled out just under her shoulders, her face finally unshielded from overhead. She immediately felt cooler, it was nice to feel the breeze against her cheeks but she did not allow herself the luxury of enjoying it for long. Standing to her full height and making sure all of her things were secured to her, she had a suspicion of merchants in general, she purposefully strode across the plaza and towards the door that allegedly hid the man named Sticky. She wondered what she was walking into.

She opened the door without hesitation or misgiving. You had to exude confidence when haggling and battering. That was how every business transaction was done here in Hammerfell. She learned a long time ago not to show weakness because while the merchant probably did not carry a weapon they were every bit as stubborn and ferocious in their trade as any seasoned warrior. Besides, she was in her element now, a creature of the evening, a predator of twilight. She may have admitted it to herself ruefully but she could not dismiss the benefits.

Claudia fought the urge not to be unnerved the moment she stepped into the room. A small fire by the mantle cast just enough light for the room while a few candles helped the first rays of the moon coming through an open window. While the furnishings of the room were not elaborate or expensive, it still created a welcoming and cozy atmosphere. Claudia tried not to show fear or misgivings at the two roguish armed men sitting on either side of a nearby desk. One was a Redguard the other an Imperial. While they may have tried to seem casual by their relaxed and disinterested posture, their leather armor and daggers clearly out in the open designated them as the guards and musclemen. They probably were under orders not to scare prospective customers away but nonetheless, they were also probably expected to react decisively the moment danger was sensed.

And sitting at the desk, enjoying a meal of bread, cheese, hummus and vegetables, was the man Claudia assumed was Sticky. As expected he was a Redguard. That was where correct assumptions ended. He was not what Claudia had pictured him to be. She had to be sure.

"Sticky?"

"One and the same. It is clear you already have heard of Sticky, many have but Sticky has not heard of you." the man proclaimed, finishing a morsel of food.

He wore simple light blue and brown robes of the traditional fabric used by the Redguards near the Alik'r. He did not wear a hat like some might have to keep his head warm, especially with the open window, but it showed that his head was covered by a mat of hive of short, curly black hair. His eyes smiled and glowed a mahogany brown in the light the hearth. He was also clean shaven. But he was short, probably a head shorter than her. He did not seem very muscular either unlike most Redguards. Even a poorly trained youth would probably be able to break the man in two with a determined swing of an ax. However, she started to understand that weapons were not what Sticky wielded. Claudia could hear that his heartbeat did not even elevate. He was in his element. This was his domain and he knew every inch of it.

"What's your real name so that I may address you properly."Claudia started.

"Sticky is fine, no need for my real name. Now, what is your name, lady?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief before rising to his feet to shake her hand. Yes, he was a head shorter than her.

"Call me Claudia." she smiled without showing her teeth.

"Ah, Claudia. I like that name, many a favorite Imperial merchant woman I worked with who had that name. Good memories, all of them. Now, what can Sticky do for you, lady Claudia?" Sticky asked, hands grandiosely spread in an offering motion.

"I'm looking for information." Claudia began, taking the seat across from his desk which he had generously offered.

"Information! Such an important commodity few people recognize. Fortunately for you, Sticky has recognized this resource long ago and does his best gather it. What information do you ask of Sticky?" the Redguard asked, his smile broad and disarming. Claudia did not like his broken, crude take on the common tongue. It was not because it interfered with communication but because Claudia quietly suspected it was a tactic used to lull customers into underestimating him. She remembered a Khajiit with a similar methodology.

"I'm looking for three people. One is Sibylla, a Nord warrioress from Skyrim. She has blonde hair and can have a bit of temper. Then there's Do'Ravier, a Khajiiti mage with an obsession for Dwemer artifacts. And finally Bann-Je, an Argonian. He's a little...crazy."

"Does the Argonian have a trade like the others?" Sticky asked curiously.

"He's a jack of all trades." Claudia explained innocently.

"Ah, a very smart man or a very stupid one. Sticky will not ask but 'Jack of all trades' usually have less than legal business dealings. Especially if they are insane. Hmm, give Sticky a moment to remember these names..." the Redguard scratched his chin with a single finger. Claudia got the impression this was more for show than sincere remembrance. She frowned as he continued to burn through her patience.

"Oh, I'm sorry lady Claudia but I just don't have information on those three. Say the word and I will have them track down in no time, I can assure you of that." the man pouted with an apologetic frown.

"I trust you are the only person I can look to find this," an admittance she quietly rued, "so I only ask what you require in terms of payment." Claudia replied, trying to remain buisness like.

"Ah, well, I am truly, truly honored that you have so much faith in my abilities. You have flattered me, so just for you, I will make you a better deal." Sticky announced excitedly.

"Just tell me your price." Claudia sighed impatiently.

"Oh, Sticky is not so unimaginative to think of all things as measurement of coin. No, Sticky knows a good investment when he sees one. You see, Sticky spies this charming young woman who walks so straight and tall into his abode carrying her weapons. He tells himself that this woman know what she is doing." Sticky said, a rattish grin forming on his face. Claudia started to feel the temperature of her blood beginning to raise.

"So, I remember that I am in need of someone smart and capable in my employ. Do the work that I ask, and soon you shall get the information you need. You can even keep an ear open for it yourself." Sticky offered.

"And if I refuse and would rather pay you in coin?" Claudia snapped.

"No need to get rude. Alas, Sticky does not believe you have that option. You see, Sticky knows everyone that needs to be known here in Sentinel. If Sticky does not know you, you are nobody. But Sticky also knows that beyond not just knowing you, he has never seen you before. You are either a visitor, stranger or fugitive and fugitives are worth money when given to the right people."

Claudia relaxed her glare with that last statement. She realized that a ball of ice was starting to form in her stomach. Mentally, she quickly regrouped and prayed she could somehow mitigate the damage.

"Besides, Sticky looks at you and though he sees someone capable, he does not see someone rich. Information is very expensive, very valuable. You simply will not have the money for the information you seek if you do not first work for Sticky." the Redguard explained in artificial helpfulness. Claudia realized she had lost the game of verbal chess, far badly than she would have ever expected.

"...Very well. I suppose I could use a new job. What would you ask of me?" She sighed.

"Ah, and now we really are doing business!"

* * *

><p>The irony was not lost on her. Just last week she was a shepherd, a keeper of sheep. Now, just a few days under Sticky's employ and she was "a clever assistant." That phrase, at least when being under Sticky, meant she was nothing more than an enforcer, a glorified goon Sticky used to intimidate and ensure that his business deals would be honored until they came to fruition.<p>

Claudia could not complain too much. The wily Redguard was no low life thug and on many occasions she actually did not mind the business deals he made. They were clearly done for the betterment of the merchants and on many occasions they went towards helping the city. Sticky was transparent in his attitude that Sentinel was his home and he was quite proud of it. Claudia also suspected that he understood that so long as people understood he was diverting mass sums to ensure that the fountains kept flowing, the sewers clear and the roads maintained, and maybe patching up an orphanage or two, it would help persuade local authorities to keep a deaf ear or turned eye if anyone suspected Sticky was up to something slightly sticky.

Nonetheless, there were times Claudia did not feel all that comfortable with her new role. For one, Sticky decided to pair her up with yet another enforcer of his, Magar. Magar was a tall Redguard who surprisingly fell on the lanky side. That did not mean he did not have muscle and his face was quite stern and intimidating. It also did not help that he was absolutely silent. An ugly, horrific scar that stretch across his neck bore witness to the reason why. Somewhere back when Magar was wounded in the throat. He kept his head and somehow his life but traded his voice in the exchange. Sticky also claimed that Magar had plenty of brawn and intimidation but not much else. It was Claudia's job to bring the wits and the negotiating abilities.

Which explained the current predicament a certain merchant was in. Claudia _almost _felt bad for him but that had more to do with his skittishness and perchance for whimpering. She would easily admit that she had no stomach for torture and never stuck around with the Inquisition had to pull out the more gruesome tactics. She was of the philosophy of just offing the scum and being down with it. However, for better or for worse, Sticky preferred some refinery in his intimidation tactics. Naturally, they were expensive.

The poor merchant was invited by Magar and Claudia to one of the more fancy inns in Sentinel, in this case it was the Sunset of Sentinel, and told that they needed to iron out a few business details. That much was true. The intimidation part came in when the merchant was sat on the inside of a table with Magar blocking the only exit. It was his job to just sit there and be an impassable, scowling wall of muscle. It was Claudia's job to deliver a clear warning. Sticky, ever a micromanager and having a perchance for flair and drama, even had the proper means of delivering the warning. It was rather literally cooked up by a well informed cook who had been made privy to Sticky's schemes.A closed food platter was served to the table by an unknowing table maid. By now, Claudia noticed that the erstwhile merchant had started to suspect something was wrong. Anyone too close to Magar could probably start to pick up the vibe. Once the covered platter delivered, Claudia got to work.

**"**Now, there is something we must talk about, Mr. Hamar." Claudia announced softly to the sweating Redguard.

**"**And what is that?" the man asked furtively. His short beard was starting to drip now.

**"**Sticky wants to know why you have delayed in your payment again." Claudia stated.

**"**I- I told him...the payment will come in due time." Hamar tried to assert.

**"**Yes, we are aware that you may need some time with your deposits. However, it has been over a year now, Hamar and you have not started. Do you know what a Sand Strangler is?" Claudia demanded,voice as still as deep water.

**"**Wha- it's...it's a viper of the deserts. I don't see how-"

Claudia cut him off and removed the covered platter. In the center of the large plate was a coiled brown and tan snake. A forked tongue flicked menacingly from its angular head. It appeared to be completely smooth save for the bumps of its scales. Nonetheless, any self respecting Redguard who traveled into the Alik'r learned to recognized this particular kind of snake. The Sand Strangler on the plate became alarmed and coiled itself further into a threatened ball.

**"**As you probably know, it gets its name because of how slow the poison from its bite kills. It's very painful and can last up to two weeks, two and a half if you're especially unlucky. People have said it's not a very pleasant way to go. You always feel like you're drowning, never enough air." Claudia reminded the man whose fearful gaze was transfixed on the viper.

**"**P-please, lets not be hasty, just give me some more-"

**"**Time? Mr. Hamar, you have had plenty of time." Claudia spat.

**"**Please! I can give him the first of the payment within a few days! I can give you a handful now in good faith, just-"

**"**Please, Mr. Hamar, let us remain being dignified businessmen," Claudia murmured as the Sand Strangler hissed irritably from the platter. "Please consider restarting your payments within the month. It would be bad to die leaving unfinished business and unpaid debts, wouldn't it? However, the bite of this snake is not completely fatal. Sticky keeps a large cache of the antidote as he does not like anyone dying of that sort of death. Still, difficulty breathing does have a way of sorting a man's priorities." Claudia warned cooly.

**"**Yes, yes! I will being re-paying Sticky immediately!" Hamar blathered.

**"**This has been a delightful meal, you are free to go, Mr. Hamar." Claudia smiled venomously as she closed the plate. Hamar was off like a lightening bolt leaving a very disgruntled Magar looking after him. Magar grunted his annoyance.

**"**So how do we dispose of this snake now? I don't think we should just leave it here." Claudia hissed, herself not comfortable with a live snake this close to her, even if it was contained.

Without a word, Magar took up the metal platter and walked over towards the counter where the food was being prepared. He abruptly placed the metal over the grill above the fire and waited as Claudia waited on in morbid curiosity. Much to her future disgust, she found out later that Magar enjoyed the taste of roasted snake.

****Awhile later, Claudia and Magar returned to Sticky's home and warehouse. It was that time of the day where Sticky served the evening meal for most of his his trusted employees. Sticky was a very principled man. He insisted that all who served him should eat from his table and that they should replenish themselves before business was conducted. He would call them up one at a time from their meal to converse with them and ask for their report as he ate himself. He would talk to each and every one that was required to report and none would be allowed to speak with him a moment before he called them. Knowing the routine of things, Claudia waited until she too was called. Sticky greeted her with a nod of his head and a less exuberant smile than usual.

**"**I trust you handled this small unpleasant matter I asked as well as you could?" Sticky started, biting from a loaf of bread.

**"**I believe he got the message." Claudia nodded.

**"**Very good, let us hope it will be enough. Now, have you heard any news on the people you were looking for?" Sticky inquired with excitement.

**"**Nothing that has really got my attention, no." she admitted.

**"**Ah, well, Sticky has good news for you. No word on the lizard or cat yet, sorry. However, Sticky has heard of a lone warrior woman, a Nord, trekking through Hammerfell often knocking the heads of bandits and other unpleasant people. Also, Sticky seems to recall something about an ax. She is described as being belligerent and often on a whim goes clears out bandits for free. It is also said that inn keepers cry bitter tears at the amount of mead she purchases." he murmured, scratching the hairs of his chin.

**"**That...does sound like her. Did you hear where she might be?" Claudia nodded. It was as good as start as any.

**"**Ah, it seems that you will not have to do much searching. Last that Sticky heard, this angry woman was headed this way towards Sentinel. Should be here any day now. Now, please help Sticky here, if this is the Nord woman you are looking for, how many casks of Mead should Sticky tell the merchants to order? This could be a very good business coming!"


	27. Chapter 27

_In later years, stories arose of a wandering Crusader in High Rock_

_Clad head to foot in the finest armor, his sword an enforcer of righteous law_

_His shield a bastion for the vulnerable and needy_

_Many a romantic tale rose from his deeds, from slaying monsters to saving damsels in distress_

_Many a bard tried in great frustration to commit his saga to a rousing tale_

_It's hard for listeners to take your song seriously_

_If the name of the knight is Sir Skib_

* * *

><p>Claudia sat idly on one of the many crates sitting outside of Sticky's base of operations. This was part of the ebb and flow of working with Sticky. There were times when he would have her and Magar running from one errand to the next. Other days, the best he could tell them was either wait around or even take the day off.<p>

Claudia made sure to maximize every bit of shade offered by the overhead building casting a shadow over her as the noon sun began its descent. There were still many more hours until evening but little to do during that time. She had considered the possibility of leaving the city and searching for this warrior woman Sticky had mentioned two days ago but always thought the better of it. Even if it was Sibylla, and that in itself could not be known with any certainty, there was a general rule about seeking out a warrior known for deadly battle prowess. You only did so at your own risk. Fighters may or may not have good experience with people "searching" for them. Besides, if by all accounts she was making her way to Sentinel, why take the risk of missing her completely when she could just wait for the warrior woman to come to her?

She looked over when she heard Magar make a dry, rasping hiss. Because of his destroyed vocal cords and old throat injury, Magar's vocabulary was rather simple if crude to the point of being almost indecipherable. Claudia learned that a noise like that was his way of conveying a warning. Looking up, she saw a group of men approaching from across the square. She squinted at them and then recognized who they were.

It was inevitable that someone with Sticky's way of doing business would make a few enemies. Claudia had never learned who exactly these people were, only that they were the musclemen of a rival businessman that did not get along very well with Sticky. Granted, the only way to get on Sticky's bad side but not allowing Sticky any means to bully back, was never to do business with the wily Redguard in the first place. Claudia had never been able to get down all the details but she had learned that these men weren't good news and the way to respond in kind was to glare back at them and not allow them anywhere near the warehouse. She did admit she found it rather pathetic. Business rivalry among their thugs were reduced to glorified staring contests but the merchants agreed it was better than risking trouble with the guards. "Scrutiny is so very inconvenient and the judges are so quick to jump to false conclusions," as Sticky often moaned.

"This is all such petty nonsense." Claudia scoffed as the interlopers shuffled back down their own street. Making sure her hood and robes still protected her, she sat cross legged as well as folding her arms in discontentment. With only unlistening passerbys going around and the mute Magar listening, she decided there would be no harm in venting some honest opinions.

"I used to be a Vigilant of Stendarr, you know? I took care of actual problems!" she pouted. Magar only grunted.

"Oh, these are problems too. Someone needs to make sure the money flows around here but still, what am I dealing with? Lazy louts who can't pay on time? Seedy businessmen trying to make a dishonest coin? Staring contests?"  
>Magar continued to frown and stay silent.<p>

"For gods sakes, I was leading a team that killed vampires, expelled malevolent spirits and eliminated groups of deranged cultists! You will forgive me for finding all of this so petty!" Claudia huffed. Magar rolled his eyes.

"...I guess I'm starting to miss it again."

The next morning Claudia anxiously stalked through the streets towards the gates. She had a few hours in the early morning before Sticky would expect her to be around to report in for the day's assignments. The sun had not come up though the skies were beginning to brighten and she could see the morning mists already starting to dissipate. Arriving at the large iron grate that guarded the city's entrance, she saw that the sentries had already raised it to allow early morning arrivals. They only cast her a momentary glance before going back to watching the horizon. She too watched the road and focused her hearing, trying to discern any faint heartbeats that sounded human out there. If there were any there were none she could pick out yet. She waited a few minutes but saw no sign of this warrior woman that fit Sibylla's description and she would have to return back to Sticky soon. Sighing in discouragement, she turned on her heels and went back the way she came.

Back at the warehouse, she practiced at her makeshift arrow range. There was one section that got little traffic and she wanted to keep her skills sharp. Even the slightest hiatus in practice could erode and disproportionately larger measure of prowess. It was not much, just a simple thick, straw bale with the painted target, something she could prepare at a moment's notice when she got bored. Sticky gave his approval and the others of his operation learned to avoid going down that section if they did not want to risk getting impaled with an arrow. Claudia was probably small and lean but the deadly potent power she could unleash with her bonemold recurve bow gave everyone else a moment of pause.

"Ah, Claudia, could Sticky distract you a moment from your studious practicing and ask a special favor from you?" the shorter Redguard inquired quietly, having snuck up on her.

"Go ahead." she approved, drawing an arrow until the bow refused to bend. She quietly noticed Sticky's heartbeat seemed slightly elevated and wondered what that meant.

"Well, you see, some business friends have come to Sticky. They run an inn of sorts, not a very pretty place but it is one of the oldest in Sentinel. They make money off the sentimentality of it. Anyway, they tell me they have a bit of a problem but they won't elaborate on it." Sticky nervously moaned.

"So...you want me to go there and scare the problem out of them?" the archer woman asked for clarification.

"Ahh, no. Or, maybe yes. Just go there and see if you might be able to solve the problem yourself. Sticky knows you are very capable and a woman of many talents, some he is sure you have not told him. Go there and find out. The place is the Buttress Inn over by southern walls. You can't miss it."

Claudia wasted no time leaving though she decided that if it was a situation involving patrons and uppity hotels then her bow would probably spook the customers and reflect badly on Sticky. Warrior culture or no, Sticky wanted to keep the reputation that he was a businessman, not a thug with a hefty bank account. She left it back at the warehouse and made her way through the rapidly filling streets. Sticky agreed that it was best to leave Magar behind in this situation as well. It was better to approach the unknown being diplomatic and then needing to return for backup rather than scaring off the business by overreacting. It was a risk but Sticky just didn't send anyone into a situation where there was too much missing information. Besides, he needed Magar to go stare off the other business rivals; Magar was the best living gargoyle he had in his employ.

She did not expect what she found when she got to the inn. It was only about three stories tall and was actually built within the walls that surrounded the city. From outside she could see that the rooms were arranged in rows, judging by the neat assortment of windows that look out from the stone barrier. It did not seem overly elegant but even she understood that location, and history, sometimes lent a value all its own. Without a word, she ceased her examination and stepped inside.

She was immediately surprised by how dark and musty it seemed inside the hotel and wondered how that was even possible considering how large the windows outside were. Frowning, she glanced out the door a moment and realized that perhaps the sun was not at the proper angle to flood light into the hotel just yet. She also wondered why there was no one manning the front counter to help visitors. The archer decided to wait. After a few moments she also realized how quiet it was and decided that was in fact not normal. It did not matter that it was still morning, people were getting up, the day was beginning; there should have at least been some noise of people rousing out of bed, getting ready for the day or preparing to continue their journey. The floors clearly were made of wooden boards that should have easily transmitted sound.

Something was wrong.

"Hello?" Claudia called. She strained her ears, further astounded as to how quiet everything was.

"Are...are you here to help?" a voice squeaked behind her.

Claudia forced herself not to jump, as much as she wanted, to, and spun around. She found herself looking at a shorter, pale Breton woman who was clearly distressed. Her countenance was etched in lines of distress while her hair was disheveled.

"Sticky sent me to help, do you work here? What's wrong with this place?" Claudia shot off rapidly.

"Please, come quickly, you must help." the stranger sputtered, motioning frantically for Claudia to follow. She rapidly fell in step behind her as the woman led her down towards one side of the hotel and then up the stairs. Claudia still felt anxious to know what was going on.

"Tell me, what's the problem? Why are you afraid?"

"Please, just follow me." the woman asserted, still distressed.

The woman brought her up to the second floor and then motioned for her to go forward. Claudia immediately noticed that the decor was much more radiant than the lobby downstairs. Where the downstairs was simple wood and stone with hanging tapestries, she saw that this floor was richly arrayed in red, blue and purples, a long carpet running crimson down the length of the floor. There was even a decorative flower on the stand besides...

The Imperial woman stopped, turned and more carefully scrutinized the flower. She immediately placed her hands over her mouth in stunned horror at what she saw. This was not a decoration she had ever seen before. The long, angular petals were in fact tongues supported by a base of flayed skin. A single, bloodshot eye sat staring from the center. Claudia sickly realized that the carpet was just more bloody sheets of skin and a muscle. She looked over at the Breton woman who was simply staring at her listlessly down the hallway.

She realized that this whole time...she had never heard one single heartbeat in this whole hotel.

The woman began to approach her and Claudia did not like the blank look she gave her with those determined half closed eyes. Certain that she heard nothing, she drew her rapier from her side and pointed it at the Breton. Claudia felt no qualms about snarling.

"Stay back!"

"Child of death whose heart still beats; you are needed." the woman moaned.

"Back!"

"You are needed."

Claudia felt the hotel shudder around her and heard a sick, dripping wetness as the carpet and walls seemed to convulse with mucus and villi. The woman was almost upon her. Claudia held the rapier forward and sure and was about to warn her again just as the woman kept right on walking and ran herself through on the sword. Blood beginning to bloom on the stranger's clothes, she continued walking towards Clauda.

"Away!" Claudia screamed making the fluted star sign of Arkay frantically with her hand. The entity stopped as if hitting a barrier, if only momentarily.

The woman's mouth hinged open on an impossibly large maw of jagged teeth and bloodied, rotted gums as her eyes turned bloodshot. A rough, flinty voice of many tones flooded out of her throat.

"Why does the unliving make the sign of the Divine of life?"

Claudia was not sure how she did it, slipping to the side while drawing the rapier with her with a flex of her wrist. She made it to the stairs just as the wooden boards began to grow jagged fangs and broken molars and she was forced to leap down the whole flight. She did not remember the crash on the lobby floor or even running out the door. The next thing she remembered, she was panting and desperately sucking in air on the dusty ground outside as her exposed face began to turn pink in the sun's rays. She quickly threw her hood over her head while cast a backwards glance at the dark hotel. What was she going to tell Sticky?

She decided this was far too removed from her hands to do anything and she might as well report everything she had seen. She did not recall anything like this in the years she served with the Vigilants and foul spirits was not her area of expertise. There was no getting around it. She might as well just tell Sticky everything that happened, believable or no, and just get on with it. Claudia picked herself off the ground and dusted herself off before continuing on back towards the warehouse. She noticed with faint interest that she must have landed hard during the fall down the stairs since she was walking with a limp. That could heal itself.

Claudia made it to the main street running through Sentinel when she had to wait for a large caravan to cross first. Managing to navigate through the crowded streets she continued on the other side before she noticed several of Sticky's lackeys in the corner of her eye. Looking over, she spotted the wily Redgaurd himself...talking with a tall warrior in a long, flowing white tabard. Claudia would not have thought anything of it save for the fact that all those casks of mead Sticky ordered direct from Skyrim were sitting right behind him.

"Really? You bought all of this mead? Just for me? Do you take me for a fool to believe that story?" the warrior asked, head obscured under a helmet clearly made of ebony.

"Please, you must believe Sticky. Sticky is an enterprising and smart businessman. He knows that a gallant crusader was coming and said hero enjoyed mead! There is no trick here." Sticky protested.

"Your name is 'Sticky' now? I have no time for this nonsense." the armored warrior grumbled, taking their camel and walking away.

"You better believe what he says." Claudia puffed, trying to stand as tall as she could despite her earlier ordeal.

"And who are you to persuade me?" the stranger demanded.

"Ah, Claudia, you have returned! Please, tell this knight Sticky is not as sticky as first impressions might give. Is this the knight you were asking about?" Sticky spoke frantically.

"Wait...Claudia? Claudia Vivinicci?" The armored form spoke before quickly removing her helmet.

Claudia, while exhausted, could not help but let out a hoarse bark of laughter. It was Sibylla; same flowing long golden hair, same emerald green eyes and even the diagonal scar going across her lips. However, Claudia noticed she earned another scar, this one going down her right cheek, since they had parted ways.

"Claudia! What are you doing here? It has been a year, hasn't it? What are you doing here in Hammerfell and you seriously know this merchant?" Sibylla asked in happy shock.

"Oh my, Sticky calm your heart. Claudia, you said this was a warrior woman but you said nothing about her beauty. You did not do her justice." Sticky scolded playfully. Sibylla shot him a wry look.

"You can trust him on the mead, Sibylla. Sticky, we have a problem, I have bad news on your friend at the hotel." Claudia sighed, her energy sapping again.

"What? Bad news? You best tell Sticky everything so he can sort this quickly."

"Sticky...it's not exactly normal. It's...rather demonic." she replied nervously.

"Demonic? You better tell me too." Sibylla added sternly.

Back at the warehouse, Claudia drained several cups of water to steady her nerves before giving them both her horrifying tale. Sticky seemed dumbfounded and quite horrified at what he heard when she was done. Claudia had never seen him turn that pale.

"This...this is something different. Sticky knows you are not lying but he does not believe it. We will need an army of holy men to stop this!" the man sputtered.

"Nonsense. I got this." Sibylla announced, standing up straight and re-tightening the straps on her armor.

"You? Sibylla, I thought ghosts and demons were a little beyond your abilities." Claudia said.

"I might have learned a few tricks in a year."

"You're not going alone, I'm coming along."

"Ladies, do try not to get hurt. Sticky would suffer loses too if you got hurt!" Sticky called after them as they closed the door.

* * *

><p>Claudia and Sibylla stood outside the hotel once more, Sibylla intent on surveying what she was about to go charging into. Claudia took a moment to actually look at Sibylla and her equipment. The Nord woman had a full suit of ebony armor over which she wore her white tabard that had several sand stains on it. Claudia was also surprised to see Sibylla sporting a single handed ebony ax and round shield.<p>

"I remember you using larger axes." Claudia jibbed.

"Yeah, I do miss Head Reaper but this works just as fine. Also the shield provides more protection." Sibylla chuckled.

"And where did you get the ebony armor?"

"Long story, I'll tell you later."

"So what exactly do you plan on doing in here?" the Imperial asked.

"Expelling a demon or ghost, of course."

"I seem to recall back in the day that was a certain cat's job and that you knew next to nothing about exorcisms."

"Like I said, I learned a few tricks over the past year. Lets just say that ever since that incident where I was powerless to stop a haunt, I've been wanting to make sure I could cover that weakness." Sibylla explained, walking towards the door.

"Have you done this before?"

"Once or twice."

"You'll forgive me for not being entirely confident then." Claudia murmured.

"Someone once told me that when it comes time to these things, it's all about self control. You can come if you want but I'm going to ask that you stay behind while I handle the bulk of it."

"Are you going to tell me at least one of these new things you've learned?"

"Oh, well, my armor and weapons might have been blessed at a shrine of Stendarr." Sibylla replied with a smirk before returning the helmet over her head. Without another word, the two stepped inside.

"That...wasn't there when I first stepped in here." Claudia said furtively upon seeing the interior again.

The red carpet of muscle and flesh had descended down the stairs and a layer of blood and phlegm was starting to creep along the walls. Patches of organic tissue were starting to form in the sticky mire. Sibylla regarded it with a slight grimace.

"I've seen this before." the knight murmured.

"Really?"

"Yes, periodically in my bandit clearings. Every now and then I'd come to a cave or holdout that was...visited by someone else before me. Instead of bandits I'd be attacked by reanimated corpses and have to banish the dark spirit giving life to all of it. This is bad if whoever is doing this has gotten to a city." Sibylla hissed, shaking her head.

"Wait, someone is doing this? Then again, it must be if it keeps happenings. But for what purpose?" Claudia asked, rubbing her head thoughtfully.

Sibylla was about to reply when a dark mist gathered right before them and reappeared as a malformed Breton woman, the same one Claudia saw before. This time, the entity appeared more rotten and diseased, the gaping maw of many teeth now dripping with putrefaction. It let out a hellish scream and Claudia immediately drew her rapier, the blade levelled before her. She was surprise to see Sibylla had not even moved.

"What are you doing?" Claudia screeched as soon as the monster's roar was low enough for Claudia to shout over.

"The problem with demons is that they like to intimidate. They want us to forget that they are trespassing and that this plane does not belong to them." Sibylla replied nonchalantly.

Claudia stared at her bewildered as the spirit raised it's gnarled claws and made to attack the knight first. Sibylla reached up, grabbed the demon by the throat and slammed her forehead into its own. Before the malevolent spirit could recover, the Nord followed through with several quick strikes to its face with her fists. She followed up with a bash of her shield. Enraged, the spirit howled again before dematerializing and billowing to the upper floors as a plume of smoke.

"Did...did you just punch a-"

"Yes, yes I did. I guess a blessing on a weapon can flow to the gauntlets after prolonged handling. If the demon wants to invade, it has to play by a few rules. I say, why fear them when at the end of the day, they just hate us for who we are and can never be like us?" Sibylla shrugged.

"I'm not sure we've expelled it." Claudia murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

"Nope, but you stay down here, try to get clues as to who might have done this. I'll go upstairs and finish this." Sibylla proclaimed, marching up towards the steps.

"Are you sure?"

"Certain. You have your expertise, I have mine."

Claudia was slightly impressed with how much Sibylla had grown within the year but quickly got back to work. As she heard Sibylla's heavy footsteps pounding through the overhead woodwork, she got behind the welcome counter and found the largest book she could get her hands on. Folding the cover open, she smiled seeing it was the guest log. She immediately opened to the last page and growled in frustration upon seeing that the last entry had been smeared in blood stains, obscuring the last entry.

Overhead, she heard a blood curdling scream followed by Sibylla's shout of rage and exertion. Claudia wondered if her friend had been overwhelmed only to see the edge of the ebony ax erupt through the overhead floorboards followed by a tremendous hiss. Lightly suddenly began to flood into the room from the windows. Catching her breath and steadying her heartbeat, she saw that the blood had dried on the floors. It was a disgusting black now but at least it was no longer flowing in an angry red. She could hear Sibylla marching back down the stairs again.

"Got what you came for?" Sibylla asked with a smile as she returned, obviously pleased with herself despite the patches of dark, dried blood on her white robes.

"Partially. I'm going to need to clean up these stains to get our next clue." Claudia admitted, frowning at the book.

"Right. Well, do you think you could do it back at your friend's place? I'm getting a little thirsty and thought maybe I should take him up on his offer with all that mead." Sibylla admitted sheepishly. Claudia just shook her head.

The two returned to the warehouse where Sibylla brought Sticky up to speed before promptly buying as many casks of mead as she cared to. She wondered for a moment how she was going to transport it all with her but decided to take care of one problem at a time. While Sticky might have been slightly consoled with the payoff of a business venture, he was still troubled by the turn of unholy events in his city.

"This is still bothersome, has Claudia been able to make progress with that clue of her's? Oh this is troubling.I'm not sure our temple agents can handle something like this. Sticky will have to look into that." Sticky grumbled. Sibylla found him a bit too dramatic.

"I certainly have." Claudia announced, stepping back into the room with the book.

"You have? Is there anything to be done? Who is the man responsible for this?" Sticky demanded.

"You're going to have to trust me on this, Sticky and follow everything I tell you. But first, please tell me you might have gotten some leads on those two men I mentioned to you, the Khajit and Argonian."

"Actually, yes. Well, slightly. It isn't much, but there's word of a certain mage living in an old Dwarven tower right in the middle of the Alik'r, south of our wonderful city of Sentinel. Caravan teams willing to brave cutting straight across the desolate desert says this mage offers protection against hostile Bedouins and provisions for the journey but...I'm not convinced it was the mage you were looking for." Sticky admitted.

"Why not?" Claudia asked.

"Because...the people who mentioned him...well, they say the lord of the tower is a bit, oh, unstable. It just did not seem like that mage friend of yours." Sticky explained.

Claudia sighed but immediately made a decision. "We have no choice, it's at least something. Sibylla and I will go out and investigate this mage. In the meantime, have your men to be on the looking for a person matching the description I've filled out for you on this paper. Notify the guards as well, but otherwise tell no one." Claudia instructed.

"Oh? And do you know this man? Why all the urgency? Is he really that bad?" Sticky asked curiously.

"I haven't seen that name in over a year. The fact that it showed up in that hotel is not a good turn of events."

The last entry of the guestbook had been Furaldur.


	28. Chapter 28

_Countless tomes have been written on how to win a fight_

_Keep your shield arm strong, begin with a high stance_

_But no matter which way you cut it, there really is only one thing to remember_

_Don't die_

* * *

><p>Claudia thought it was hot in Hammerfell with its deserts and unrelenting sun with few trees and clouds to provide shade. When she was a shepherd she often wondered if the temperature could get any hotter, if the sun could get any more brutal. She had found that the answer to that question was in fact yes; the place was called the Alik'r Desert.<p>

Sticky had warned them as such as they prepared to leave early that morning. Claudia still felt her head pounding. The night before Sticky had begged them to tell him stories of their adventures. Sibylla was in a festive mood and poured them each a tankard of mead. Claudia passed out after barely finishing one, much to the surprise of Sibylla and Sticky. She never intended that to happen, the mead was much stronger than she thought it was going to be and she probably drank it too quick. While the Nord and merchant were fine that morning, the Imperial archer was still dizzy and far from feeling well. Amidst Sticky's echoing voice, she painfully heard that they had to keep an eye out for bedouin tribes as they were a wild card in the Alik'r. They were equally likely to ignore travellers as they were to be friendly or lethally hostile. There was no way to tell with any given tribe until it was far too late. However, the merchant warned, the sun was their known enemy. Water was scarce, only the bedouins knew where the scant and precious few oasis and springs were and many agreed the Alik'r was probably one of the hottest places in Tamriel. He was right. The heat quickly brought her to her full senses in no time only for her to register the painful reality of it all.

"So you passed out early last night." Sibylla chuckled as the camel plodded along on the sands. Claudia had heard earlier that she had named her pack beast "Karl." The camel did not seem to mind being weighed down with the usual list of supplies as well as two extra barrels of mead on top of the extra passenger on board though she felt a little bad for the animal to be dealing with all of the weight under the cruelty of the Alik'r sun.

"Yes, I forgot why I could never drink mead with you." Claudia murmured.

"Haha, I was wondering. So, tell me about yourself. What have you been up to in the year we've all been separated." the warrior woman asked.

"Became a shepherd, watched goats and sheep for a year, shot jackals to keep my archery sharp. Got tired of that, became one of Sticky's 'talented assistants.'"

"You never really struck me as one of the professional sneaky types."

"Wasn't my original intent. I was actually under the impression Sticky would be able to help me find you all. Turns out information isn't so cheap and I had to work for it. Still, he's not a bad guy once you get to know him. He's just a very competitive businessman." Claudia shrugged.

"Do you remember what he said about how long it took to get to this Dwarven tower? I thought he left you with all the details that he got from the merchants."

"He did, I breezed through them last night before you handed me the tankard of mead. It'll take us three days to get there."

"Hmm. Glad we have enough on water. I'd sure hate to go without it in this place."

"Right."

The hours started to slow down as the sun crept higher and higher into the sky. They even noticed that Karl was beginning to slack in his pace. Sibylla quietly suspected that she had been sold the most moody camel in the pack since she was quite certain she had seen camels weighed down with far more travel further distance. However, knowing that it would do them no good to wear themselves out, Claudia stepped off and began erecting a makeshift tent that she had stowed away before they left. It was made just so to maximize protection from the sun and to keep them as cool as possible. As it turned out, she did learn a few useful things being a shepherd. The two settled down to rest, sheltered from the worst of the sun as Karl sat in the sand, legs tucked and folded away under him. Trying to ignore the worst of the heat, Sibylla decided to make conversation.

"Aren't you hot in those desert robes? I know they're meant to be light and keep the sun off you but you seem to be hiding in them." the Nord observed.

"I burn easily. I'd rather be uncomfortable than dealing with a burn that won't go away." Claudia lied casually, hoping that Sibylla couldn't read the deception as easily as she heard heartbeats.

"Tell me about you. What have you done this past year? How did you get that full suit of ebony armor?" Claudia returned, trying to draw attention away from herself.

"It's a long story." Sibylla shrugged.

"I highly doubt we're going anywhere anytime soon."

"If you insist..."

_Forty-eight hours ago, she was living a normal life. She was in love, was a Vigilant of Stendarr and was respected by lay person, guard and cleric alike due to her abilities. Twenty-four hours ago, her relationship met an untimely and violent end when the man she loved was killed. Now, she was on the run, in exile, her whole life ruthlessly taken out of her control and everything she had worked for in life had been wrestled out of her grasp. Most people mourn with tears and rage. Sibylla mourned mourned with violence on those who would give others a bad day. It was not a good time to be a bandit on the road from High Rock to Hammerfell._

_ To say that she left a trail of broken bodies along the road was an understatement. She actively hunted them. Even if it meant traveling a few days off the road to track down some lost cave or crumbling ruin to clear a bandit hideout, it was what she did. In the space of a week, she had only traveled the distance of a two day journey down the road to Hammerfell, constantly returning to the main road but always being distracted with bandits. There would always be more, that was the fact of life._

_ Did she regret killing so many? A little, she knew at some point she was venting rage and going on a murderous rampage. Even if she was letting it out on bandits who would only cause trouble, it did not change the fact that she had just reduced herself to a murderous psychotic. She often collapsed in their own dens which she had just recently turned into their mass graves, resting promptly after slaughtering them all. She ate the provisions they left there, it was not as if they were going to need it anymore. On some occasions a stray scouting party would return to find the rest of their comrades' demise and interrupting Sibylla's rest in the process. They paid dearly for that. The method lacked sophistication but it was effective in wiping out whole gangs of the marauders. On the rare occasions a group would return long after Sibylla left, many were left in utter terror at the grisly work. It was those few survivors that spread the word. Nonetheless, there was no escaping the cheapness that she saw herself becoming. Someone had ruined her life so she was going to ruin others. She could not find the willpower to divert from her destructive path._

_ At some point she made her way into the mountains just on the edge of the Hammerfell border. By that time, word had gotten around that a lone woman was rampaging through the bandit gangs. Others had decided to get together for safety but soon convinced themselves that they could take a more active role. Instead of letting the crazed warrior woman come to them, they were probably better off killing her on their terms._

_ The combined force of marauders caught Sibylla right outside the fortified walls of an Orc stronghold right on the edge of the border. They had been waiting for nearly a week for just her. Admittedly, she was tired and exhausted. Perhaps in some ways she was seeking death as she barely took care of herself. Her whole agenda, her life, was just dictated by the next group of brigands to massacre Now, with her generic and dented steel armor and her ax that was in desperate need of sharpening, she only had herself to fight off a small army. Expecting death but also hungrily lusting for a good fight, Sibylla plunged into the fray. She almost got her wish. _  
><em> It was just wave after wave, group after group of enemies and Sibylla learned quickly on how much she had come to depend on the other members of her old group; Claudia, Do'Ravier, Bann-Je and the adrenaline and murderous joy kept her swinging and moving long after the cuts, jarring blows and even a couple arrow wounds started to weigh her down. Realizing she was at the end of her strength, she sent all her force into a whirlwind blow of her shield against the closest opponent she could find. She did not know if she had any more enemies after she landed on the ground. She laid down and her eyes immediately closed as she let go of consciousness.<em>

_ When she woke, Sibylla immediately became aware of the fact that she was weak, her whole body hurt too much to move and she had to have been placed inside a shelter of some sort since she could not see the sky. She saw torches lining the walls and smelled smoke. However, her first waking was quickly cut short when she saw a hooded man look over her and felt a bowl filled with liquid pushed to her lips. Things quickly became dark again after that._

_ The next time she woke she still felt sore but also commanded more strength in her bones. She did not even think about getting up and her muscles responded immediately though they protested in agony over the exercise. She got a better look at her caretaker this time. He had the same tan hood and was an older man with a close cut crop of gray hair. He looked like a monk of sorts._

_ "Did...you save me?" Sibylla croaked, voice hoarse. The monk tossed her a sealed water skin to drink._

_ "No. You'll have to thank our hosts for your rescue. Me, they just abducted after they realized your wounds were too severe for them to handle." the monk chuckled without mirth. _

_ "But who are our hosts?" Sibylla sputtered, barely having swallowed the water._

_ "It seems you caught the attention of the Orcs hiding in their stronghold. You're in one now, the one you fought just outside of a few weeks ago after killing all those bandits."_

_ "Wait, I killed them all?"_

_ "I'm told you killed all but a few. The Orcs were so impressed with your martial strength that they shot up the last few stragglers. They brought you in here to nurse you back to health but your wounds were too severe. I happened to be passing along, wondering what kind of battle took place when the Orcs stopped me and demanded I tend to you." the monk explained._

_ While the Orcs may have been impressed with Sibylla's work, they did not seem too sociable either. She was still in many ways an outsider. However, she did not complain, they had saved her life after all. But she had a long road towards full recovery and the monk, an Imperial named Arisan, did his best to make sure she healed properly even if he did not seem too enthusiastic about his forced charity. Sibylla wondered about the Orcs because she did not see much of them and when they did show up, they never stayed long enough for her to get a good look at them. Often they just passed food or supplies into the roundhouse and left without a word. However, just as Sibylla was ready to stand on her feet, a passing of two weeks, something rather out of place happened. _

_ Several Orcs came in, each carrying a beautifully crafted piece of ebony armor. Without a word they began strapping and securing it around her despite the fact that she barely had the strength to wear it. When that was accomplished they gruffly murmured a few commands to move just to make sure the armor worked perfectly. Orc craftsmanship did not go to waste or was blemished in this endeavor, it fit her like a glove and moved about her like a second skin of impenetrable scales._

_ "You will have one week to recover, after that you must leave. May your battles be as well and as glorious as the one you displayed to us." the leading Orc announced._

_ "But what is the armor for?" Sibylla asked curiously._

_ "If you are going to have such battles, you should probably have better equipment. Consider this a gift so that next time you will not have to recover for so long."_

_No sooner did they leave that Arisan chuckled before furtively whispering to her. "What they're not telling you is that if you hadn't come along, they'd probably starve to death. All those bandits waiting for you had effectively put them under siege, they couldn't leave to get supplies. Their leader who also doubled as their shaman was killed when they first showed up and was caught off guard outside the walls. You saved them all, and in some ways shamed them by fighting off all of those bandits alone." _

_ When the time came to leave the two were escorted out of the stronghold, Sibylla wearing her new armor. The Orcs did not have anything to same to them, only giving the monk and warrior an approving nod before the gates were politely closed behind them. The Nord re-fastened the straps holding her gauntlets before thinking of something._

_ "Before you go, would you happen to know anything about fighting the undead, like ghosts and demons?"_

_ "Why? Is not killing these marauders enough? Do you wish to continue pursuing them beyond the veil of death?" the monk chuckled sarcastically._

_ "Not all of my enemies may be of the physical nature." Sibylla retorted._

_ "True, true. Hmm...There is a wayshrine to Stendarr somewhere down the road, not even a few hours journey from here. It will be utop a hill off to the side of the path. You will not miss it. They say that the shrine itself was placed there in benediction to a warrior who fell fighting the undead. Something about that sentimentality might be what you're looking for. Place your weapons upon it and pray. Perhaps Stendarr may grant you your petition."_

_ "Very well." Sibylla murmured before pausing. She thought of one last thing as the monk gathered his things and began on his own path down the road back towards High Rock._

_ "Thank you. For everything."****  
><strong>**_

_"Do not thank me, for I have done everything as is expected of a follower of the Divines, nothing more. Besides, what was I suppose to do, just let you die there? I thought Nords liked to die in glorious combat, not in a botched, half-rescued state. T'would be most impolite of me to just let you die like that if such is your belief." the aging monk cracked with a sly grin. That was the last she ever saw of him._

The two woke from inadvertently falling asleep in the depth of the afternoon heat. After a quick and light meal, they got Karl up and began their journey again, the camel a little grumpy about having to work. They were following yet another tip Sticky had left for them from the veteran merchant travelers who passed through the region; travel at night. It is far more comfortable to do so. However, they also knew that it was more dangerous. Jackals were more active at night than during the day and the scorpions as well as the desert vipers liked to come out during that time too. Sibylla may have been more vigilant to keep an eye out for any unwanted creepy crawlies but Claudia remained relaxed. She knew all she had to worry about was to listen for stray heartbeats. She detected none.

"Say, are your eyes still good?" Sibylla asked as they bounced along on Karl's back.

"Sharp as ever."

"Good. I'm glad to have an extra pair of eyes. That also means I can be more at ease wearing my helmet." the Nord chuckled, putting the armor piece back on her head.

"Right. We'll be right back to the good old days in no time." Claudia replied, still depending more on her ears than anything else.

For the first few hours there was nothing to be said. It was just them, the camel, the moon overhead and an endless sea of sand cut through by the lonely beaten path. Nothing was said. Only the whispers of the wind filled their ears for some time.

Claudia started to feel herself get hungry again. It did feel like such a long day after just sleeping for a few hours in the afternoon and now staying awake during the long hours of the night. She could feel the body heat of the pack beast under her as well as hear the slow but strong rhythmic thumping of Sibylla's heartbeat in front of her. She suddenly realized how breathtakingly simple it would be. Just remove the woman's helmet. A friend wouldn't think too much of it. Before the Nord could protest, Claudia could just sink her teeth into her neck and-

Claudia stopped her thoughts dead in their tracks. Horrified and ashamed that she would think of something like that, she shifted uncomfortably on her seat. Knowing that the vampirism within her was probably becoming more deeply seated, she wondered how long she would have, much less what would happen if and when it completely took her over. Would she be cursed forever balancing control and the hunger of a beast within her or would she one day lose herself completely? It was not something she wanted to think about.

But she was hungry. Fighting the two urges again, she dug her fingers into Karl's hide until the camel out out a small grunt of protest. That wasn't going to work. She clenched her mouth shut, refusing to let the hunger get the better of her. And Sibylla's heartbeat was right there in front of her practically screaming for her to end it. She needed something to think about. The urge started to die down again but she was very unsettled with what had happened.

Her distraction came in the form of a stray heartbeat. After some scrutiny, she realized that it was in fact several heartbeats. Straining her ears, she decided that it was coming from a small group, no more than four, off several dunes away. They had to be human, the strength and speed of the heartbeats was the only thing that made sense considering the context. However, despite her initial alarm, she decided that they were curious bedouins as they never really shortened their distance on them. Claudia was wary but did not want to needlessly raise an alarm. She also reasoned that if they started trying to spontaneously start eluding them, that would only further feed the bedouin's curiosity. In the end, Claudia thanked her heightened senses and remained calm. She would keep an ear on them but there was little reason to go panicking at the moment.

Despite the constant, if small presence of the bedouins tucked away in the back of Claudia's mind, they ultimately proved to be no trouble. The Imperial wrote them off as either being curious or not having anything better to do. If they were scouting out potential victims, Claudia and Sibylla did not make a worthwhile target. Two more days dragged passed, avoiding the worse of the sun and trying to live with the dull edge of thirst as they rationed their water. It was a joyous sight indeed when they spotted the iconic outline of a Dwarven tower suddenly erupting out of the sands off on the horizon. Claudia insisted, despite Sibylla's protests, to rest during the worse of the noon heat. They would get to the tower in the late afternoon. There was no sense needlessly exhausting themselves this close to their goal.

Once dusk came they packed up Karl and continued on with renewed vigor, watching intently as the tower grew larger and larger in their field of vision. With each step they noticed that it was not just a solitary tower since there appeared to be a storeroom or other structure just off to the side of it. They could also see from the dancing of shadows and light that someone had lit a fire outside of it. Claudia could already hear the heartbeats. She also knew that some of those were jackals but otherwise ignored it. Being this close to anything resembled civilization discouraged the wild dogs.

"So, just knock on the door and ask if Do'Ravier is around?" Sibylla asked.

"We'll have to take a good search and look ourselves. If that cat is smart, he'll know to keep a low profile. If there are more people there, people we don't know, we might want to keep it quiet ourselves. It all depends on what's there. Just follow my lead." Claudia reassured.

They were rather surprised about the first sight they spotted. Claudia found out what happened to that jackals she had sensed. There were three of them and they were dead on the sands. What killed them was easy to figure out. The wild dogs had been pierced open by a large, sharp object while the ground around them was clearly moist by the darkness of wet sand. It was clear that they had been killed by the use of ice magic, frost that had already melted in the heat.

"I don't remember Do'Ravier ever using using ice. It wasn't his style." Sibylla whispered to Claudia.

"We've gone this far, we might as well see it to the end." the Imperial replied though she too did not like that either.

The fire they had spotted was in fact a large forge which was being manned by a short, barrel chested Redguard who was stripped to the waist. He was working relentlessly on the glowing metal in his grasp and judging by the empty waterskins gathered around him, had spent a long day working hard.

"Excuse me." Claudia called, prompting the Redguard to look at her. His short if beefy frame was covered in short hair while sweat dripped from his short beard.

"Is there a mage inside this tower?"

"You can't miss her. She should be right inside." the blacksmith replied simply before pounding away at the reddened steel. The two women exchanged nervous looks before saddling up Karl and making their way inside the ornate and large brass doors that served as the tower's entrance.

The inside showed to be more furnished than they originally expected. It was also clear that the tower was much larger on the inside than they had expected. Off to the side was a bar stocked with all kind of spirits and drinks while a makeshift kitchen sat further behind it. The original Dwarven carpets and decorations had either been taken away or re-purposed. Most of the original Dwarven cups and bowls had been put back to their originally intended uses after sitting dormant for uncounted years. And immediately before them was a robed figure scrutinizing a book while sipping from a cup which contained some steaming warm beverage.

"Can I help you?" the robed figure asked, revealing herself to be a young Redguard woman. There were three clear, deep scars running down one side of her face.

"We're looking for a Khajiiti mage. He was quite interested in Dwarvan artifacts. Would he happen be around here?" Claudia asked, a little surprised at her own directness. She reasoned if they got this far, no sense in dragging it out now.

"Hmmm, even if we had such a mage fitting that description, why would you be looking for one?" the Redguard asked skeptically, folding her hands in front of her.

"I assure you, we don't mean him any harm." Claudia assured.

"Listen lady, we've been fairly polite up to now, we don't have to continue being-"

"Sibylla! Don't threaten our hostess." the Imperial scolded, in front of the still very skeptical Redguard.

"Sylva, I'm telling you, I do not have any such books on that matter in my library!" a voice called from up the winding staircase in the back.

"Who is that?" Sibylla pressed. The Redguard woman, Sylva, brought her palm to her forehead and sighed heavily.

"And I see we have guests at this late hour. Well, it's not that late, just rare that we get any at this time. Welcome to our rather sizeable tower abode and- and...I know you two..."

Rapidly padding down the stairs, a similarly dressed mage moved towards them before putting his books on a nearby counter. The could see that his feet were bare and clearly feline, whiskers poked from out of his hood. It was when he removed his hood completely and they saw a familiar set of ears, one sticking from his head lopsidedly, that they had no doubts.

"What are you two doing here? It's been so long and what are you doing out in the Alik'r?" the Khajiit asked in surprise.

"Do'Ravier...you're the lord of this tower?" Claudia sputtered.

"Me? Lord of this tower? No, that's not me." the Khajiit shook his head.

"But they said the lord of this tower was a mage, an unstable one." Sibylla smirked.

"Oh, I see, you must have gotten the information crossed. The lord of this tower isn't the mage." the Khajiit shrugged.

"Then who is the lord of this tower?" the Imperial woman asked.

"Look behind you at the bar and maybe you can figure it out."

The two took a moment to scrutinize the counter but could find no clue. All they saw was an immaculately kept kitchen space. Sibylla was especially short on patience.

"I'm not seeing it, cat."

"No, wait..." Claudia murmured.

She noticed a pattern. The wine bottles were all kept in sets of three, the tankards were kept in sets of three. There were even three wash cloths neatly folded off to the side. She knew that pattern. It all came rushing to her.

"Don't tell me that psychopath somehow managed to become lord of a tower!" Claudia exclaimed.

"Indeed, he did." Do'Ravier chuckled.


	29. Chapter 29

_It is when nothing owns you_

_That you are most truly free_

_Sometimes this means owning nothing_

_And even freedom can be crippling_

* * *

><p>Claudia always knew from the moment she had those three under her command that leaving them for prolonged periods unsupervised would often lead to completely unexpected, sometimes bizarre, results. She had learned a long time ago that especially in the case of Do'Ravier, he was the most likely to go off and do something absolutely insane. He probably would not do it on purpose of course, but for some reason fate always seemed to conspire in ways to put him in ridiculous circumstances. There was a reason that she only paired the Khajiit and Argonian off unless she absolutely had no other choice or she had reasoned that explosions would not be a completely catastrophic outcome. Despite knowing that she should not have been altogether surprised at this, she still was having a hard time swallowing that the psychotic Argonian had become the lord of a tower and the eccentric Khajiit had not blown it up yet.<p>

"Uhh...can you explain how you all got here?" the Imperial sputtered.

"Oh, but you must tell us how you two got here! Wait, let me get our friend." Do'Ravier replied with a grin before shuffling off and disappearing through a sidedoor that led downstairs.

"I'm surprised those two can run a whole tower out here in the middle of nowhere surrounded by bedouins who may or may not be pleasant." Sibylla said, still admiring the architecture of the vast tower.

"They don't do it on their own." the Redguard woman, Sylva, pointed out.

"Hm?"

"By happenstance they've more or less attracted the attention of various people. All of them wanted to help out or learn and didn't have anything better to do. Most of them help patrol around the desert, escorting caravan groups that want a little more security and handling rogue bandits. Not every caravan attack is done by bedouins, you know. A lot of bandits only dress as them just to confuse caravaners. Though to be completely honest, I blame Do'Ravier for most of them being Khajiit. They all get nervous every time I suggest keeping a dog as a pet." Sylva mumbled.

"So where is this merry band of cats?" Sibylla chuckled.

"They're not all cats but they're out now escorting the last caravan group that left."

It was at that moment that Do'Ravier returned, this time leading Bann-Je who did not seemed to have changed in the previous year though they noticed his clothing had gotten a little more fine. He walked up to them and flicked his tongue twice as if to confirm that it was indeed Sibylla and Claudia before him.

"It is so good to see you two." Bann-Je said calmly before giving them both a hug.

Sylva excused herself while Do'Ravier and Bann-Je shuffled them over to the bar. Do'Ravier insisted that Sibylla and Claudia tell their stories first while Bann-Je found some Cyrodill brandy to serve. Claudia noticed that he still kept his ritual of entering and exiting the bar passway three times before permanently staying within it.

"All right, all right. Now it's time for you two to talk. How did you get all the way out here?" Sibylla asked after she and Claudia told their stories.

Do'Ravier yawned. "I know this is unfair but I'm getting tired. Bann-Je, you're probably wide awake, right? Maybe you can tell them?" the Khajiit asked drowsily. Bann-Je simply nodded.

"Very well. I will see you all in the morning. Bann-Je will also show you where you two can stay. Divines know we have plenty of space." he yawned again as he padded towards the staircase ascending the tower.

"That sourpuss. Anyway, if you want, I can get one of the barrels of mead from my camel before you go start that story." Sibylla offered excitedly.

"I'll pass on the mead." Claudia replied uneasily.

"Oh fine, I'll go get it tomorrow. Now, please do begin soon, Bann-Je." The Nord encouraged.

"Yes, yes, now let me find a stool to sit on. Now, you want to hear about everything since when we first stepped off the ship? Yes, of course you do, no one has wanted an assassination done in over a year. Frustration, want to kill something. No, not that, must focus on the story telling." Bann-Je mumbled to himself before looking up at the two women. The way they were staring at him suggested they were rather unsettled by what he just said.

"Heh heh, sorry, it gets loud in my head. Anyway, let me begin the story."

* * *

><p><em>There is not much two members of the beast races can do when dropped off near broke in the foreign city that was Sentinel. Sharza bid them both goodbye deciding that she wanted to make her own path and since that path usually involved getting in trouble with the law, neither Bann-Je nor Do'Ravier wanted to be too involved. That still left the two without friends, connections, a plan and very soon they too would be without coin. Sitting at the docks in their armor and weapons, the two contemplated what their limited options were. They were quickly pushed away by some irate harbor master and deciding they didn't want trouble, concluded they would be better able to assess their options if they toured the city. <em>

_ The plan and routine they eventually formulated evolved by accident more than premeditation. It started with Do'Ravier noticing Dwemer trinkets in the marketplace. While he asked around for more information on that, Bann-Je went off into the deserts to scavenge for anything that might make a suitable meal in the event that their initial searches proved fruitless. The two were already used to living off the land. The only thing out of place at this point was that they would be camping in the middle of an urban jungle if they could not find some official accommodations. At some point or another, their long term goal was to find a Dwemer ruin and find what kind of opportunities that could be had there._

_"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Bann-Je asked. _

_"Do you honestly believe we can go back to a simple life? We're wanted by Thalmor, this one doubts some temple will pick us up, your only skills are assassinating and cleaning and Do'Ravier tends to make alchemist angry with his ability to blow up potions. Not to mention everyone has been rather patronizing towards us if not outright hostile. It's not easy being a lizard or a cat here." _

_"And you suggest we take our chances in an abandoned tower that no one has settled." _

_"Do you have a better idea? You better state it quick because we don't have any coin left and Do'Ravier is not about to go sell his armor or spear." _

_"You win. Lets get this over with before. I'm not sure which I want to do more, snap a neck or clean the streets." _

_ The first two days were a simple grind of the Khajiit researching in the library, scouring ancient and current maps while sorting through rumors, landmarks and occasionally harassing merchant vendors. Bann-Je found that scorpions made a plentiful, if crunchy, food supply. At night, they slept in an alley that was a popular place for the local vagabonds though they kept their distance and used a shift system at night just to make sure the others maintained that distance. While roast and occasionally fried scorpion was starting to grow on them, this sort of existence was not something they wanted to develop into a long term habit so both were rather relieved when Do'Ravier made a breakthrough. _

_ Out in the middle of the Alik'r was an abandoned but documented Dwemer tower simply known as Nftudilium. No one had claimed it and for some reason, no one had bothered to further investigate it. Being out in the middle of the desert was a big discouragement. Do'Ravier decided that they might as well try to make it a base of operations. Bann-Je wondered where they were going to find water. The Khajiit argued that considering the Dwarves' love for steam based machinery, if they couldn't secure a well they could at least collect condensation. Bann-Je relented that on the grounds that if he was going to die, this was not a completely bad way to go. _  
><em> Their next problem was trying to convince a caravan group to allow them to tag along and have some access to their resources. After much haggling, some begging and playing stupid, a caravan did allow them to sign up with them for only half the journey, roughly halfway through the deserts so long as they brought their own resources. After scrounging several abandoned barrels and filling them with water as well as more roasted scorpions and bits of jackals, they left with the merchants. When they left, the locals noticed that the poisonous insects seemingly bounced back to their original numbers after mysteriously thinning out for a bit. <em>

_ There was nothing to be said about the journey. The two made do being mostly separated from the group, dealing with a constantly leaky water barrel and munching on the scorpions Bann-Je prepared. The Alik'r was a blistering place and Do'Ravier did not appreciate the way it heated up the metal plates of his armor despite being shaded from the sun under his robes. The two were overjoyed to see the tower rising above the desolate sands. The two beasts, as well as the caravan, were relieved to be rid of each other. _

_ The Tower Nftudilium was mostly untouched throughout the ages save for dust and animal droppings everywhere as well as countless vipers and yet more scorpions. Their immediate food needs were quickly met. The two then set about making the place safe while trying to bring some life to it. A lot of cleaning was needed as well as getting some of the more vital machinery up and running._

_In retrospect it was almost a wonder they did not kill themselves in the process of getting the tower up and running. Bann-Je was filled with a near murderous need to clean out all the dust and filth while Do'Ravier energetically got to working on the various mechanisms almost haphazardly. At first he often tackled several different projects all at once, never finishing any of them but always working on several a little bit at a time. Bann-Je needed to make sure every room he started on was spotless before he could move on. He started on the main floor and slowly worked his way towards the top. He did not even want to consider what the bottom floors looked like and for awhile slept on the main landing. It got more interesting when Sylva showed up. She and Do'Ravier initially recognized each other in shock but then got into an argument about the tower. Sylva was upset that Do'Ravier got to it first when she had been trying to finance and expedition to get there on her own having noticed it being neglected by most scholars. Ever since then, the two were either excitedly making discoveries or bickering endlessly on how they disagreed with each other over some trivial matter. _

_ There were hard times indeed but they were able to secure a constant source of fresh water from one of the machines underground. Food was easily foraged from the scorpions and other desert wildlife. They were also able to get_ _some of the underground produce farms cultivating again._ _When_ _the bedouins became curious they quickly had to negotiate the countless different tribes among them._ _Soon, they were trading supplies with the passing caravans, offering water and shelter for the tired while occasionally granting healing aide to those who were wounded or suffering dehydration. They had to make an initial sacrifice of some of the Dwemer relics, a sacrifice Do'Ravier felt more than Bann-Je but after establishing an initial monetary base, there were able to pick themselves off their feet. Do'Ravier had plenty of Dwemer relics to examine and study, Bann-Je always had plenty to clean. _

_ With money to be made in helping the caravans, the group starting running a small in of sorts. With the sprawling ruins just further networking underground and showing no signs of stopping, any financial tight spots were quickly paid off by throwing artifacts for cash. With Bann-Je the constant face for arriving caravaners, Do'Ravier too busy studying to be bothered with every visitor, he started to take on the title of lord of the tower._

* * *

><p>"Wait, so the only reason you became lord of this tower is because no one else wanted to take it and you were the one everyone saw?" Sibylla sputtered, flabbergasted.<p>

"Hm? Yes. That would be the case. Not like it's an official title but the Bedouins respect it and in turn, the caravaners just go with what the Bedouins say. Must clean this stain off the counter." Bann-Je murmured, rubbing at a blemish that neither Claudia nor Sibylla saw.

"Of course these two would be the only ones crazy enough to actually try and do it." Claudia shrugged when the Nord looked at her.

"You are all probably tired. It is getting late. Will have to clean this stain later. It upsets the great clean one. Follow Bann-Je, he will show you your quarters.

"Where do all of the caravaners stay when they arrive?" Claudia asked as they followed the Argonian up the stairs that spiraled upwards along the tower walls.

"They stay on the main floor. They know better than to steal from us, to hurt us would be to hurt them as we both depend on each other to stay alive. They often sleep on bed sheets or makeshift cots. We do not care. You probably met the blacksmith? His name is Muraat. He and his wife live in the little shelter by the tower and the caravaners often pay him to create things or sharpen their weapons. In return, he expects supplies from them. Those who help us maintain the tower sleep in the rooms along here on the first floor above the bottom landing." Bann-Je explained, motioning towards a set of closed door.

"But there are always extra. These two will be yours." he added, pointing to a pair that were opened and seemingly undisturbed.

"What's further up the tower?" Sibylla asked curiously.

"The next two floors are libraries. Most of the books are ancient relics written in the Dwarven script that Do'Ravier hopes to one day translate. He never will. Sylva stays in a small room off to the side of one of them. Do'Ravier has the highest floor to himself. It was decided that in in the likely event he explodes something, it would be be less disastrous if only the top blew up and not somewhere in the middle of the tower that could bring the higher floors crashing down towards the bottom."

"And you sleep on the bottom?"

"First floor below the main landing is mine. Everything below that are the ruins and floors for cultivating produce and cheese making. It is very good to see you two but more questions tomorrow. I am tired." Bann-Je yawned before promptly walking towards the lower floors.

"I think they've honestly had the most fun out of all of us this last year." Sibylla observed.

"Think? I'm pretty sure they did."

* * *

><p>Back in Sentinel, Sticky scrutinized the three hooded figures before him. All three were Bosmer, two females, one male. The clothes they wore did not seem to be armored and their robes were plain. Still, something in Sticky's gut told him to be wary of them. It was not because he thought they meant him harm, he still had Magar and a handful of guards all watching them as they sat before him. Nonetheless, the Redguard was quite certain that something somewhere was amiss with these three. His gut often did not steer him wrong in choosing which food to get and usually steered him right when it came time to business deals.<p>

"We have come to you for information." the male announced. Sticky decided he was probably the spokesperson.

"Ah very good. Sticky is a very good man to find information from. What kind of information are you seeking?" the Redguard replied, more cordially than he actually felt. Something told him he wanted them out of here as quickly as possible.

"We are looking for a woman. Her name is Claudia and we have reason to believe she has recently left this city. Do you know where she went? She's an Imperial and is said to be good with a bow. She also carries a sword of delicate make though she is also skilled with it." the Bosmer pressed.

"Hmmmm...let me think on this." Sticky murmured weighing on exactly what she should do.

One of the women dropped a leather pouch onto the table which bumped heavily against the wood. Sticky could see that it was laden down with coin.

"Ahh, well, while a down payment is nice it does not guarantee quick results. Please let Sticky consult some of his sources first just to double check his hunches. You would not want to be sent the wrong direction now? Sticky would not like that for you." Another leather bag thumped onto his table.

"Very well, if you want to expedite the information, Sticky remembers of a shepherd woman leaving the city bound to go through the Alik'r. This shepherd womans fits your description down to the name." Sticky replied calmly.

"Thank you." the Bosmer spoke and the three left in eerie unison.

Unsettled, Sticky opened the bags and found that they did indeed contain gold, all of it in good condition. His mind started to race for a bit as he considered everything he had seen and tried to sort out a few more hunches. He was not entirely sure on what to make of this meeting. He scratched his chin and wondered what exactly he had done and what exactly he should do in response to it. Sadly, gold has a way of numbing a good conscience.


	30. Chapter 30

_Chapter 7_

_A touch of madness, A throttling of desperation_

_The whisper of desire, The wine of idleness_

_The drum beat of inspiration_

_Of these are actions of legends born_

* * *

><p>Claudia awoke the next morning when she heard a thunderous rush of air followed by a loud hiss. With a start she was up, barely dressed, and her rapier was ready. Curious as to what had jolted her awake, she poked her head out door and spotted an also alarmed and equally disheveled Sibylla standing confused in the hallway.<p>

"What was that?" Claudia demanded.

"I was hoping you'd know." the Nord sputtered.

Suddenly, they noticed a fine mist starting to billow rapidly down the staircase, fingers of the moisture slowly plunged in a freefall to the main floor. They scarcely had a moment to swallow this odd sight when the two heard the slight patter of footsteps slowly approaching them on muffled pads. Appearing from the billowing clouds, Do'Ravier emerged covered in frost looking as if coated in a mail of miniature diamonds while tiny icicles hung from his whiskers and weighed them down. He nonchalantly passed them.

"Good morning, ladies. Nevermind the failed experiment...though I honestly don't know how I did this one either. Either way, shall you join us for breakfast?"

Both Claudia and Sibylla took a moment to get dressed before continuing with the cat in the descent of the staircase. Claudia opted for her usual desert robes while Sibylla found a spare, simple dress to wear. They could smell that something was already being prepared as they continued to approach the main floor. They soon spotted Bann-Je working feverishly behind the kitchen bar. Eggs were being hard boiled in a large pot while they could smell bread being warmed on a hot plate, Bann-Je moving to each station of the kitchen like a murderous shadow. A row of Dwarven tankards sat on the counter, one for each of them filled with water. Do'Ravier went to each one, pressing his palms to them and flash chilling them with a small burst of frost magic. Sylva joined them as Bann-Je was feverishly handing everyone their plates.

"So, why is it that the lord of the tower does all the serving?" Sibylla chuckled.

"Like to keep my claws close on hand. Also, I know the food inventory stores better than anyone." the Argonian replied, swallowing a hard boiled egg whole.

"As it turns out, there is something useful for the compulsive need to count, recheck and then double check your stores while monitoring total gains and losses." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"We have not gone hungry yet. Well, at least not in our bellies. Gods, I want to kill something." Bann-Je murmured quietly. Sylva, who had been quiet the whole time, spoke up.

"...I thought you had to handle hostile Bedouins " the Nord asked between bread and cheese.

"They have since learned to behave around the tower. It has been a good six months since there has been an incident."

"So...all of you know each other? I only know Do'Ravier from a previous accident."

"Most people know the Khajiit from an accident." Sibylla jibbed.

"We were a team of Vigilants back in High Rock." Claudia explained.

"Ah, so this is a reunion?" Sylva asked curiously.

"An unplanned one." Do'Ravier murmured.

"...Actually, there is a reason I've been rounding you guys up." the Imperial admitted sheepishly.

"Really? The voices said as much." Bann-Je blurted, ushering another but brief moment of nervous silence.

"Okay, please, hear me out." Claudia urged before taking a breath to ready herself.

"Do you all remember before we had to flee High Rock? Remember we were looking for a mage of Peryite? Some Daedra Lord?"

"The Daedra Lord of pestilence who orders Oblivion's lesser planes." Do'Ravier factoid.****  
><strong>**

"Right. Well...he's back. And I need to stop him." Claudia admitted with a sigh.

"Back? Are you sure?" Bann-Je inquired.

"He...desecrated an inn in Sentinel. His name was the last on the guest book." the Imperial stated.

Silence hung on all of them as they all got lost within their own thoughts. Claudia knew she was asking a high thing. All of them had their own lives and had gone their own separate ways. And now, having been reunited for less than a week, she was already presenting them with a heavy request. Truth be told, she was not sure she would have said yes if the situation was reversed.

"Claudia, we're not part of the Vigilants anymore." Do'Ravier replied, voice numb.

"I know, but this is important!"

"We have no support from the Inquisition. If there are any sleeper Thalmor agents around, well, I highly doubt the Aldmeri Dominion have forgotten us yet, and for Divines' sake, we've had a year to let our skills deteriorate." the Khajiit argued.

"That's not true, you and Bann-Je regularly trained with the others so that they would be prepared to fight hostile bedouins out in the desert." Sylva pointed out.

"Fighting bedouins is not the same as fighting Daedra, undead, Daedra, ghosts and Daedra!" the Khajiit snapped.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine. Besides, we always needed you for your magical abilities than anything else and from what I've seen, you've picked up a few more tricks over the year." Sibylla said, trying for once to calm things down.

"...This one needs to think about this." Do'Ravier finally said before marching up the stairway towards his room. He left them all again in silence.

"I'll go talk to him." Sylva offered, hurrying up the steps. Claudia meanwhile shook her head and sighed.

"I wonder what got into him." Sibylla murmured.

"It's partially my fault. I came down hard on him before we all parted ways. You too, Bann-Je. I'm sorry about what I said a year back." the Imperial murmured before drinking from her tankard.

"So what do you think, lizard?" the Nord asked hopefully.

"It's been a long time since I killed something. So messy."

"...I take it that means you're on board?"

"Sure...Wait, what did the other voice agree to?" the Argonian blurted, his voice sounding like it shifted a bit.

Claudia took the awkward silence as an opportunity to regard the architecture of the tower. Like most Dwarven ruins it was made of a bronze like metal while the floors were a heavy stone and she wondered how they remained in place despite there being many floors throughout the tower. The stone tiles lacked any design, simply being smoothed by the years and were at least cool to the touch, which was more than could be said by the metal which could warm all too easily in the desert heat.

They heard footsteps approaching and this time saw a lone Do'Ravier returning, face grim under the fur. He mechanically walked up to them and folded his arms in front of his chest. There was a moment before he decided to speak.

"I will not promise anything. But I should at least hear how exactly this mage desecrated the inn. I might be able to help you somehow if you describe it to me."

"So, that basically means you're going to eventually give in and help us." Sibylla teased.

"I did not say that."

"You never do but you always end up helping!"

"Just tell me the details!"

A few minutes later, they were following Do'Ravier around in the library as he piled several books on a large desk. The number of shelves and books was impressive although it was easily dwarfed by an actual library.

"How were you able to acquire all these books in a short time?" Claudia asked.

"Give a bunch of Dwemer trinkets and artifacts to a caravan and tell them to send the rest to a library in exchange for several ordered books. The libraries are still trying to print all the books I ordered and the caravans return them to me when they can. You'd be surprised how many times I've needed information on Daedra. The Dwemer were not unfamiliar with them." the Khajiit explained.

"So, what can you tell me about Peryite and this attack?" the Imperial pressed.

"That's the problem, few people even know that Peryite exists. As far as Daedra go, we've only just recently have become familiar with him and even then, even his followers can't say much. Now, the...gore, for lack of a better term, in the inn. Did it seem living or decomposing?"

"...both?"

"Hmph. Well, that just muddies it. I'd say...he's still experimenting." Do'Ravier offered.

"Experimenting? To do what?" Sibylla demanded.

"I wouldn't know, I'm not him. I remember those creatures he summoned that we fought. There's also reason to believe he set off some sort of tormenting agent on those vampires we fought a while back. He has a dual fascination with life and death and Peryite is a logical patron for that matter being the Daedra lord associated with pestilence and disease. It's not solid but considering everything we saw before we fled here and what you've told me now, it's the only hunch that would make sense."****  
><strong>**

"That still does not give us much. It only gives us more motivation." Claudia sighed.

"I've done all I can." Do'Ravier shrugged simply.

"You should still come with us." Sibylla urged.

"For the love of the Divines, let me think about it." Do'Ravier grumbled again and abruptly left the library.

"What is his problem?" Sibylla snapped after he left.

"He's happy here."

"What?"

"He has a Dwemer tower all to himself where he can study to his heart's content. He has the means to experiment without anyone being bothered by him. And call me crazy, but I think there's something going on between him and Sylva. He's happy to sit here in this tower, offer help to passer bys and maybe zap the occasional bandit. He's under no obligations to do anything we used to do as Vigilants anymore." Claudia explained.

"Yeah, but where else are we going to find a battlemage that knows how to work with us? Besides, Bann-Je didn't need a lot of convincing." Sibylla argued.

"Bann-Je is crazy and you just heard him muttering. He wants to go assassinate something again. And we're not going to find another battlemage that knows exactly how to work with us. You remember all those times we nearly killed each other when we first started out."

"Well, you said yourself that maybe he's still mad at you. You go talk to him." the Nord urged.

"Well...I might as well." Claudia sighed. She stepped out into the massive stairwell and decided to go look for him in his own room. She turned and walked up the steps.

It proved to be a short walk. She saw the next landing overhead but before she got there, she spotted Do'Ravier standing right outside a large, sealed door just before the final floor. He had a small, sealed vial in his hand and was staring at the door in concentration. Claudia felt that he was ignoring her so she decided to get to the point.

"Look, are you still bitter about how I treated you a year back? Because if you are, I'm sorry about that, I really am and I should not have done that to you."

"It's more to it than that."

"Then please, explain to me what it is because I really feel like we need you."

"I have not done any of that fighting in a year, Claudia! I'll need to train. I have no intention of dying immediately after setting up a life I actually enjoy."

"That's...that's it? You're just afraid?"

"Of course I'm afraid." the Khajiit admitted.

"Well, we can spend a few days here with you training with Sibylla. You and Bann-Je will probably need the time to set everything in order in your absence anyway." Claudia offered amicably. Do'Ravier sighed.

"...When this is done, you owe me."

"If I contribute a few more books to your library, will you at least name a shelf after me?" Claudia grinned sheepishly.

"...Deal."

"Who are you talking to?" a voice demanded from behind the door. Despite the initial surprise, Claudia was certain that under his fur, Do'Ravier had turned white.

"Claudia, would you mind if I took care of something privately?" Do'Ravier squeaked, almost in a panic.

"Who is in there?" the Imperial asked suspiciously.

"It's a long and complicated story."

"Are you holding someone captive?"

"Who is out there?" the voice demanded again.

"Claudia...please."

"What's going on, Do'Ravier?"

The door banged and then there was silence.

"Open that do, Do'Ravier." Claudia ordered. The Khajiit glared at her, growled, and then began turning a circular locking mechanism. He continued to turn it long after Claudia thought it would open. It was not until a good quarter of a minute that the locking mechanism finally stopped and would no longer budge. Quietly, the mage opened the heavy door as thick as a person and revealed a darkened room illuminated only by a single light fixture running off of some old forgotten Dwemer magic.

There was a woman standing at the threshold of the door. She had long black hair that hung loose from her head and pale white skin. She wore a black and gold dress and some simple jewelry though Claudia noticed that they were of a make she had never seen before. This stranger had blood red lips and equally crimson eyes where the white should have been. However, the thing that grabbed Claudia's attention the most was what she heard. The woman had no heartbeat.

"You're a vampire." Claudia blurted. The woman responded by reaching out as if in an instant and clamping her hand around Claudia's throat.

"So are you. And you cheat at it." she snarled.

"Zelphia, that's my friend you're threatening and- wait, what?" Do'Ravier asked, aghast as orbs of electricity crackled in his paws.

"What's going on here?" Sibylla thundered, marching up the steps with Bann-Je close in tow.

"Oh...uh, you do not want to meet this person. Long story but with the best of intentions. Do not ask about the woman behind the door." Bann-Je blurted.

"Someone tell me what in the Divines' names is going on up here?" the Nord shouted.

"From what it sounds like, it seems our friends have a semi-living skeleton in their closet." Claudia snapped, not enjoying the woman's firm hold on her neck.

"Yes, but our 'living skeleton' as you pointed out just told me that you're vampire. And she would know. Yes, she is one." Do'Ravier explained, eyebrow raised at Claudia.

"How about you explain what's going on first." Claudia threatened with a hiss.

"Can we all calm down and let me give Zelphia her due, first?" the Khajiit offered, shaking the vial he had earlier.

"Fine."

"Zelphia, please unhand Do'Ravier's friend so he can give you food." he asked with exaggerated politeness.

"Is it the real stuff or another experiment?" the vampire snarled irritably.

"Half camel blood, the other half I donated. No new findings this time."

"It'll do." Zelphia grumbled, letting go of Claudia before snatching the vial from Do'Ravier's paw and downing it swiftly.

"So why do you have a vampire in your closet?" Sibylla pressed.

"It's technically a vault, not a closet. I want to clean it but she won't let me." Bann-Je murmured.

"Can we talk about this downstairs over some tea?" Do'Ravier offered with a sigh.

"Is it daylight out?" Zelphia demanded.

"Yes. Four hours pass dawn." Bann-Je reported, trying to be helpful.

"Bah, too bright. Lock me back in." the vampire snapped at Do'Ravier before walking back into the small vault and hauling the door shut behind her.

* * *

><p>"She was here when we first arrived." Do'Ravier explained, sipping a cup of Elsweyr Cactus tea.<p>

It took awhile to get everyone to calm down but Bann-Je and Do'Ravier were insistent that they all take a moment before any talking happened. Waiting for the water to boil and for the tea to prepare was a natural timer. As soon as everyone had sat down, the two took another deep breath before Do'Ravier opened his mouth.

"That's it? She was here first so you just live with her?" Sibylla asked incredulously, eyebrow raised.

"She was mildly unpleasant when we first spotted her on the upper floors-"

"She still is mildly unpleasant." Bann-Je interrupted Do'Ravier.

"-But she explained that while she still felt the need to feed, after some three hundred years of being a vampire, you don't need to feed as much or as often. She was starting to feel...remorse for what she had done was looking for a cure. She had not found one yet but decided hiding in this tower was a good compromise between trying not to kill too many people and not being noticed." the Khajiit explained, taking a sip of his tea.

"And you took her word for it?" Claudia asked skeptically.

"Why not? We were the ones that were about to kill her first, not the other way around. Besides, does not Stendarr instruct us to have mercy?"

"I thought we were also instructed to slay the undead." Sibylla argued.

"True, but I think there might be an exception here. Usually, the undead are not trying to become authentically undead and would rather remain killing as half dead." the Khajiit pointed out.

"That statement hurt two of the voices." Bann-Je grumbled.

"Now...Zelphia called you a vampire. She might be unpleasant, and that's putting it mildly, but she's not crazy and she's not taken to lying. Are you a vampire, Claudia?" Do'Ravier asked bluntly.

"No." Claudia replied quickly. She was met with unrelenting stares.

"Fine...I'm not one. Yet." the Imperial admitted, eyes now watching the floor.

"Wait, what is that suppose to mean?" Sibylla asked.

"It started after I almost died from the vampires a year ago. I could hear heart beats. At first I just...I didn't know, it was strange but I didn't think anything of it. But now...I can still hear heart beats but now there are times I want to...feed. And not in the chewing food sort of way. And I suspect that the fact I burn easily and severely has more to do than just the fact that I have fair skin."

There was a stony silence for a moment as each of them got lost in their own thoughts. Claudia tried to ignore the fact that Do'Ravier was now staring at her like some workshop experiment. She was not sure what the facial expression on Sibylla meant. Bann-Je seemed to be the only one who appeared to be unfazed by the whole thing. Considering the fact that he was the one with multiple voices in his head, having a friend who had vampire issues was probably just another fruit stand at the bazaar for him.

"Don't mind me for a moment." Do'Ravier murmured as Claudia felt one of his fuzzy fingertips touch her neck right under her jaw. She looked at him strangely but he seemed deep in thought. After a moment of silence, Do'Ravier clasped his paws back together and frowned.

"Well, no wonder she thought you were cheating."

"What do you mean?" Claudia inquired.

"Your own heart rate is going at a solid one beat a minute."

"So that means..." Sibylla trailed off.

"Claudia is all but dead. But remember, the vampires claimed they got it from Furaldur who must have cast some sort of enchantment or curse upon them. If we can get to Furaldur, we have a chance of curing Claudia." Do'Ravier explained.

"Are you sure?"

"Nope, but it's your only lead now at this point, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right." Claudia sighed.

"So does that mean you two are coming now?" Sibylla demanded wearily.

"Sure, but we need to spend a few days training with you." the mage cautioned.

"Hahaha, oh, I'm going to enjoy this." Sibylla laughed with an evil grin.

Bann-Je raced around the counter, stopping to enter and exit three times, before returning to the tower's main floor. Arriving at the center, he began to hop slightly in excitement.

"Can we get started now? Please? All three voices want to have fun." His request was met with Sibylla raising an eyebrow at him and looking a tad bit unsure. Do'Ravier chuckled.

"Enjoy."

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note:<span> _I highly doubt I can punch out another chapter during the holiday season here's an early gift. Quick, read it before the world ends or something!_


	31. Chapter 31

_"For some, it is not a matter of the acquisition of resources._

_Some are willing to sacrifice a thousand souls for something as petty as pride"_

-Malcus Hordo, General turned priest

* * *

><p>Bann-Je smirked a wicked smile despite the three voices in his head competing for dominance. He was still in control, whoever was the actual dominant force that dictated what actions he did. However, he had to do it listening to the constant squabble of the three voices. It was irritating but the adrenaline and focus demanded by sparing with a weapon helped him to ignore them, or rather focused all three voices on a singular task that they all were at least interested in. It was better than dealing with other tasks where inevitably at least one if not two of the voices would either complain or grow bored with it.<p>

He and Sibylla were practicing their sparring while Do'Ravier and Sylva were outside. In the spirit of being absolutely thorough, the Khajiit was practicing his aim, Sylva tossing discarded pottery fragments while he fired spells at them. Somewhere in the middle, resting behind the counter and sipping a warm cup of tea, Claudia watched all of them. She noticed with some reflection that Bann-Je seemed to be improving by the minutes. It could have just been her personal opinion but she was under the impression that Bann-Je seemed a little more ragged as far as sanity went when they first arrived. The lizard had been sparring, parrying and dodging around Sibylla all day already he appeared to be becoming more "all together." She wondered if his grasp on sanity, or his ability to keep it's illusion, was directly related to how often he came in conflict. A year of being "lord of a tower" and the quiet life that came with it, seemed to do more damage to his psyche than all the years of madness and horrors they saw working together or assassinating for the Morag Tong.

That did not mean there were no consequences. Bann-Je still seemed a little twitchy and erratic at times, spending just one moment too late to pause and analyze Sibylla's attacks before just barely denying them at the last possible instant. He was still holding his own but it was a haphazard affair of whether or not he would reacted instantly or just a little too slowly for Claudia's liking. Then again, it was only his first day back to training and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it.

"Are you just going to keep circling around me smiling like that?" Sibylla laughed hoarsely from behind her helmet, a warning swing of her ax further keeping the Argonian back.

"I'm just getting back into my steps. It's been a long time since I attacked something as imposing and heavily armored as you. Bedouins are lighter." Bann-Je smiled wickedly.

"If you don't follow up you'll get run down."

"It was always my job to make the illusions." the Argonian laughed just as Sibylla swung her ax heavily forward. It was only when her arm had already committed her to the movements that she realized what Bann-Je did. Her arm went forward and the wily lizard skittered to the side out of her field of vision. She brought her shield up to block him but like some ravenous phantom she felt him squirm up her back felt his claws and arm clamp around her helmet.

"Check. Dead." Bann-Je pronounced. Sibylla knew better than to protest that possibility.

"You win again, lizard." Sibylla admitted with a good hearted chuckle, removing her helmet as Bann-Je hopped back to the floor.

"Yes, but it is still not quite right yet. Again?" Bann-Je asked excitedly.

"That's enough for today. We've been training since morning and it's almost time for the evening meal." the Nord panted.

"Oh! Quite right! I've lost track; let me go prepare food." the Argonian announced in near panic, frantically scrambling off for the larders.

Sibylla shook her head, amused at her old friend's antics before dragging herself back to the counter to rest on a stool and take a long drink of the mead she bought from Sticky. The Nord drank slowly, savoring every flicker of the flavor and each scorch of the burn of the alcohol, something she still enjoyed despite the heat of the desert.

"I'm surprised, you waited four whole days before cracking open that barrel." Claudia chided her, from the opposite end of the counter.

"When you're on your own you learn that you need to get your act together or you'll die far too young. Sometime after I got the ebony armor but before bumping into you, I figured out I still could make something of my life. It's hard to do that if you stop breathing, even more a pity if you died from miscalculating from an mead addled brain. Besides, it's more enjoyable with friends." Sibylla snickered.

"Some things never change, huh?"

"Nope."

They looked over when they saw Do'Ravier and Sylva returned from outside, both laughing over some whimsical silliness that occurred outside. The Khajiit dusted off the last bit of sand on his robes before waving Sylva off as she went to return to some last minute studies.

"Let me go get Zelphia, she likes to be out at night when we don't have any visitors." Do'Ravier announced.

"You're going to let her out?" Sibylla sputtered in disbelief.

"She seemed to be a bit hostile the last time you let her out." Claudia added.

"Yes because she's learned to not like unexpected visitors, or any visitors for that matter, after some three hundred years or so. Besides, we've spent a year with her and haven't ended up bled dry and I can't treat her like some animal. Had too many people treat me like that to know it's not pleasant." the mage replied before continuing up the stairs.

The two shrugged as the Khajiit left momentarily, sipping their drinks. At this point, they had to trust Do'Ravier's judgement on the matter. If he insisted he and Bann-Je had lived with the vampire for a year, they had no choice but to believe them and they and seemed to be in their right minds rather than thralls.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question about, you know...your...situation?" Sibylla murmured furtively to Claudia. The Imperial sighed despite her smile.

"I suppose you're curious. Go ahead."

"Okay, please don't take this the wrong way..."

"I'll be understanding, what's your question?"

"Okay, out of the three of us...who would you eat first?" Sibylla asked bluntly.

Claudia looked at her aghast at first but Sibylla's grin and frank countenance showed that she meant no harm in the question and for hypothetical if bizarre reasons, was truly curious. And now that she was thinking about it, Claudia realized that she was not sure herself. Treating it as if it purely theoretical, Claudia tried to guess.

"Well, now that you brought it up..."

"Yes?" the Nord asked excitedly.

"You." Claudia shrugged.

"Wha- me?"

"Yes, you. Do'Ravier is too skinny and I don't think he'd have much in him. I don't know about you but I'm quite certain Argonian blood might taste funny. That leaves you and you're the tallest out of them so that makes you a little bigger." the Imperial shrugged frankly. Sibylla scoffed.

"Pah, see if I ever stand next to you again." Sibylla muttered.

Do'Ravier returned with Zelphia in tow. Under the artificial light of the Dwemer lanterns, Claudia could get a better look at her. The ancient vampire had pale skin which was usually the case with vampires. Zelphia also had sharp features despite a certain youthfulness on her face, her black hair and eyes a stark contrast to the ivory of her skin. The vampire eyed Sibylla and Claudia suspiciously.

"They're safe?" the undead woman asked the mage.

"No less safer than Do'Ravier or Bann-Je." the Khajiit murmured back, taking his place at the counter.

"Hmph, that's not saying much. You're both a danger to yourselves as well as others." Zelphia grumbled.

"Oh hush."

Bann-Je may have served up a warm meal of roast goat, potatoes and greens within the hour but Zelphia noticed the food eaters remained silent as she stood in the doorway of the tower regarding the moon. She did not care. If her presence unsettled them, or at least some of them, she could not care less. After three hundred years and a certain level of preternatural ability over regular mortals, you gained the ability to ignore them most of the time. Ostracization, while understandable, only served to reinforce that attitude. That was when she detected footsteps behind her. She turned to spot Claudia approaching her.

"After some thought I think it would be safe to say we didn't get a good start in introductions. I'm Claudia and I hope we don't have to be enemies." the Imperial offered her hand while looking her straight in the eye.

"Hmph. You'd best not. I'm the closest thing you'll have to a mentor in a short while."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Claudia demanded, a little offended.

"You understand, I'm exactly what you're going to be very soon and unless you plan on losing your mind and becoming a ravenous creature, something your friends will have to put down, I'm the best thing you have to a fall back plan."

"E-excuse me?" Claudia sputtered, her voice indignant.

"It's true."

Claudia felt both angered and that she was grasping at straws. "What about you? What about those rare vampires that actually try to live among people? There were rumors that one count in Cyrodil was-"

"They're rare, Claudia. Just like you said. It takes a special personality that overcomes the darkness and even then there's still that hunger. I assume it's a little different for you because you're in a half state. The path to vampirism is never consistent and then never manifests it's consistently either. The bottom line is that you can only pray you're one of the lucky ones. If not...your friends will have to put you down like an animal. But enough of that. I'm locking myself up for the rest of the night." Zelphia announced with a wave of her hand.

"Is she always like that?" Claudia asked once the vampire was out of earshot, looking over at Bann-Je and Do'Ravier.

"Yes." the Argonian replied without looking up. The Khajiit nodded, not even turning his attention away from the food.

Claudia had a hard time falling asleep that night. Had not Stendarr told her to find this mage? Wasn't it the right thing to do? She understood she always had that possibility to just walk away but that just would not seem right, if anything because who else was going to stop a rogue daedra worshipper who seemed to have no qualms slaughtering innocents in the name of his dark god. But if this was her duty, if this was something the Divines had sent her on...why would she also be cursed with this steady encroaching vampirism?

She rolled over again, still not able to settle her restless mind. She wished she could talk to someone wiser than herself on these matters. Alas, this was not High Rock or the old cathedral and so she could not track down venerable Archon Tacitus even if it was some unholy hour of the night. Either she would have to go without an answer or decipher it herself. The heavier details of theology was sadly not her field so, though far from content, she continued to lie awake at night, hoping that sleep would take her soon. It did not come as quick as she would have liked it.

The next day came and went without anything special. Bann-Je was becoming more of shadowed lightning that he was before last year. It was getting to the point that Sibylla was no longer enjoying the sparring, seeing the lizard's propensity to effectively check her with her barely being able to respond. Do'Ravier was also feeling comfortable again, his spells landing with deadly efficiency while his spear work had not atrophied as bad as he thought it would. That evening, as they all ate while Zelphia lurked nearby, Claudia believed that the two were feeling better about the prospect of their adventures. She decided to ask but with caution since she did not want to give the impression that she had little consideration for their feelings of self preservation.

"You two have progressed very well these last few days." Claudia started, sipping the tea she had.

"I suppose we have." Do'Ravier assented, demolishing the roasted chicken in front of him.

"How sanguine are you feeling about your chances now?"

"Haha, I see what you did there, Claudia." Sibylla chuckled.

"You know what? Sure. We can get started tomorrow. We'll just leave instructions for our blacksmith, Muraat on how to keep things going in our absence but he's a smart man, I'm he'll manage. Sylva will help." Do'Ravier nodded.

"Must. Clean. This. Stain. Oh, and yes, I will come too." Bann-Je blurted, scrubbing furiously at some spot on the counter that seemed glossy immaculate to everyone else.

Claudia breathed a sigh of relief before smiling. "Thanks. All of you. I know I can't offer you anything other than the knowledge that we're doing the right thing."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what it always was about anyway." the Khajiit murmured, now surveying the edge on his spear with a investigative eye while Sylva busied herself with oiling his armor.

"Are you sure? Remember that one time you got separated from the rest of us and made a hefty sum when you found a vein of ebony?" Sibylla jibbed.

"Ah yes, the same reason why my one ear is forever lopsided on my head. And Do'Ravier thought you were in it for the mead." the Khajiit shot back with a toothy grin.

"I don't see a problem with this."

Noticing a movement in the shadows, they all looked up to see Zelphia glare at something before slinking further up the stairway. In a moment, they saw why just as Claudia picked up the spare heartbeats. They had visitors.

"Ah, welcome. Nevermind the weapons, we are just preparing for a journey but you may be served this evening." Do'Ravier greeted the travelers.  
>Standing in the doorway were three Bosmer judging by their frames and the style of their facial tattoos. All three were shrouded in cloaks and hoods, most certainly to shield them from the chill of the desert nights. With their hoods over their heads, the only real distinguishing mark between all of them, other than heights and gender, were the colors of their skin ink. The two women had green and black colors, the male red.<p>

"We only require beds to sleep in. Please, we are tired. Separate rooms." the male announced.

"Are you sure? We could cook something small and bring it to your rooms." Sylva offered.

"That is not necessary." Green replied.

"Well...all right. Follow me." Do'Ravier conceded with an uneasy shrug. Claudia noticed he still had not let go of his habit of intentionally butchering his accent to make himself appear more simple in front of strangers. As the Khajiit led them off, Bann-Je hopped excitedly in front of the stove and accompanying cauldron. The grin on his face suggested he was waiting for someone to order something else.

"I'm fine for now, lizard." Sibylla shook her head.

"Since when did you learn you liked to cook?" Claudia asked with a bemused look.

"Ever since I figured out it requires exacting measurements." the Argonian explained.

"If you four are going to be charging off, I better go out and tell Muraat about the changes to be made." Sylva announced, the idea coming to her as she stood from her stool and straightened out her robe.

"I'd ask if you knew how everything should be run, but you've been around Do'Ravier and I too many times that you probably don't need to be reminded." Bann-Je murmured as she left.

"Do'Ravier more than you, but you're right." Sylva smirked as she left to go visit the blacksmith and his wife in their ancient storage house.

"...Is something going on between her and him?" Claudia asked furtively while beckoning her head in Do'Ravier's direction.

"Possibly but they're keeping it quiet or going slow if they are. Might have something to do with the fact that she's a Redguard and he's a Khajiit. You should see it when she scratches the back of his neck though in playfulness. He gets all happy and then wakes up a few seconds later, not knowing what has happened. Very amusing." Bann-Je chuckled.

"Did I miss anything?" Do'Ravier called, bounding down the steps.

"No!" Sibylla replied loudly over her shoulder.

"Oh."

Just as Do'Ravier was sitting down, Sylva returned leading Muraat. The blacksmith heralded a unique and not necessarily pleasant aroma. Most of it could not have been helped and admittedly, Sylva had caught him before he could take his evening bath. The beefy if stout man smelled of charcoal, bitter smoke, sweat and body odor.

"Sylva tells me that you will be taking off tomorrow and that I am to help overlook the workings of the tower." Muraat said simply, using a rag to clean the sweat from his bald head.

"Yes." Bann-Je nodded.

"This I can do for free. But do not leave in the morning before first seeing me. I think I'd like to hand you all some supplies before you leave." Muraat announced before leaving.

* * *

><p>The next morning Do'Ravier drowsily padded down the steps early before the sun rose. Judging from the sounds of kitchen utensils moving around, he decided that Bann-Je had also gotten off to an early start. It made sense. The whole reason he was up early himself was because today was usually one of the busy times where merchant traffic reached a peak. While he may have been leaving that day to go on whatever adventure Claudia had for them, he and Bann-Je might as well have taken care of a few last details that they handled well. Judging by the shadows cast on the floor as he descended the stairs, he could see they already had visitors. Two in fact.<p>

"Welcome." Bann-Je murmured, looking up at the much taller and clearly more muscled stranger.

Despite the both of them wearing heavy desert robes and turbans that made them look for all the world like piles of walking cloth, the taller one could be easily surmised by the way he composed himself. Even the scimitar on his hip, clearly well used even by the wear marks on its handle, could not have been wielded by a lesser man. This was in stark contrast to the shorter visitor who seemed like a mere dwarf to his body guard. However, it was the shorter one who did all the talking. If his bodyguard did any talking, it was merely confined to very quiet grunts.

"My name is Sticky and I'm in a bit of a hurry, we do not have much time and time is a very important thing for an important merchant as myself. Alas, this thing is too heavy on my conscience hence why I did this myself while taking my best bodyguard, Magar." the shorter man sniffed from under his turban.

"Hm?" Bann-Je grunted, vaguely reminded of the name. It sounded like one Claudia mentioned earlier when telling her stories.

"Are there three Bosmer elves here or a woman named Claudia perchance? Hopefully not together, Sticky prays." the short merchant waved Bann-Je and Do'Ravier close to him so he could tell them some grave secret. When his spoke, his voice was scarcely over a whisper. Do'Ravier even had to swivel his one good ear closer to the man.

"Sticky thinks those three are agents working for the Aldmeri. They often use Bosmer for their dirty work where a bunch of Altmer would be too suspicious, you know."

When Do'Ravier and Bann-Je's glances met, it was clear that the color had already drained from Bann-Je's scales. The same was probably true for Do'Ravier but it was hard to tell due to his coat of fur. The Argonian's tongue flicked once in a display of nervousness.

"Where were their rooms?" Bann-Je hissed.

"Next to the two." Do'Ravier sputtered.

"What is wrong?" Sticky butted in.

All of them glared overhead when they heard a shrill screech followed by screams. Magar's hand fell to his scimitar but Sticky was already high tailing out of the tower sputtering something about how danger was hazardous to his health and that he was very fond of his health. Magar looked at the two beastmen with conflicted motivations. The Argonian made his decision when he pushed the giant in the direction of his employer. The two then took off and began bounding up the steps. It was too late for the Khajiit to grab his spear and settled for generating arcs of electricity that billowed out of his claws. He hoped it would be all he needed. Bann-Je already had his ethereal blades summoned but was unsure how this situation would play out. Judging by the last chorus of screams which had probably woken every occupant in the tower, he did not believe he had the jump on the situation anymore.

"How did we not see this?" the Argonian hissed angrily.

"Nevermind, lets just hope we can correct this."

They nearly tripped over Zelphia who had somehow zipped down the stairs and intercepted them.

"What are you doing?"

"Zelphia, out of the way!"

"Bann-Je, Do'Ravier, stop. It's too late." Zelphia warned quietly.

"No, no it's not!" Do'Ravier protested.

"It's not what you think." the vampire retorted.

They looked up once again in horror when they saw bodies falling from the staircase. Following the movements, they saw Claudia cruelly impaled with three shortswords still grasping the male Bosmer from last night. The two bodies hit the tower landing with a heavy slam and for a moment did not move. The only thing Do'Ravier and Bann-Je could do was stare on in shock.

"Let me handle this." Zelphia whispered.

That was when they watched Claudia get up, oblivious to the blades that had run her through. Curiously, her wounds did not bleed despite the red smears around her lips. There was a pause before the Imperial looked down at her attacker. There was no way of telling if he was still alive, at least not from where Bann-Je, Zelphia and Do'Ravier were looking. It soon became irrelevant where Claudia bent down, sank her teeth into the Bosmer's throat and tore it out in a savage motion.

"She's turned." Zelphia hissed.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note<em>_: First off, thanks to those who are still reviewing or following this story. Those little numerical supports called "hits" help. Second, classes and work are about to kick up again and while I have a vague idea on where to go with the rest of this story, I need input. This is where I'm asking you, the audience, to remind me of any loose ends or ideas you'd like to see before I send this story off on it's final act. _


	32. Chapter 32

_The voice in Bann-Je's head tells him to clean and to repeat_

_The voice in Squint's his Eye's head tells him to kill silent and clean_

_The third voice tells them both things that only a god would know_

_Too bad it isn't always coherent_

* * *

><p>Oh gods, she wanted to kill them all.<p>

Rage. All consuming rage. She was desperate and angry and a fire burned in her head just behind her eyes. She'd bite her lips but she had already broken through them twice and the pain in front of her teeth only served to further set them on edge. And to think there was this gods forsaken solid door between her and them. It was _infuriating_. They had even teased her. Three unsuspecting slabs of meat dared try to sneak up on her, as if she were the prey, not the predatory. She toyed with them just out of spite, just because she could, all the better to see the fear on their faces when she jumped over their sword points and tore them each to pieces. She drank and fought as she could, finishing off the last just before she followed him down their fall to the bottom of the tower. And still, three did not satisfy her.

But a small voice whispered that it was for the best. The quiet whimpers in her mind fearful and despairing over the crescendo that raged in her mind. This was wrong. This was all going wrong, at least that's what a small child cried, a little girl she had ceased to be years ago but the ghost of the little one had never gone away. This was not who she was and it frightened her.

****But she was so hungry! And thirsty! It was as if hunger was melding into thirst and her thirst was so vast it had become hunger. And she had not eaten in her whole lifetime. And they would put the feast behind a solid metal door and bar her from it! And they called themselves her "friends." If they were so sincere they would learn their places, bow before her and offer up their lifeblood like the cattle they were; so easy to manipulate and so complacent to follow orders. Even the strong willed Nord who liked to fancy herself an unbreakable woman still became as docile as a lamb if you spoke to her the right way. The two beastmen were exactly what they were called; beasts who could easily be cowed into submission. **  
><strong>She wanted them dead.

* * *

><p>The most common thing to do in a situation like this was to drop into mechanical movements, familiar routines and repetitions since they were somehow comforting to most of the races of Nirn. Muraat was practicing what might quickly become an obsolete position as temporary tower host downstairs at the entrance. He also had quietly disposed of the bodies of the Thalmor agents that morning. No one would suspect their final resting place as that one dune out in the back. Besides, bodies were bad for business. Everyone else was in Do'Ravier's room which also doubled as his study. The Khajiit himself was sitting at his large desk which was better described as a table, too many open books sprawled out in front of him and stacked in piles. He was not even looking at them, choosing only to stare ahead wide eyed and without focus. A single finger tapping the table idly and without thought. Sylva was helping him by scouring through the library, still trying to find books that might have any relevance to his search.<p>

Bann-Je understood that medicine, at least the restorative side of it, was not his area of expertise. Curing diseases was another matter altogether and it was clear that even Do'Ravier was not able to tackle it. But the one voice in his head screamed that things would be at least marginally better if he made the place shine like a mirror so he got to sweeping and dusting. The other voice remained silent because there was nothing to kill. The last voice blathered something about a giant triple headed slug outside.

Sibylla stroked her ax head with a whetstone again, just as she had been doing for the last half hour. This was far beyond any of her abilities. Getting their friend back was something more for the cat to do and even he was unsure on how to go about that. The only other possible solution she could offer would be more permanent and there would be no getting Claudia back if that happened. It was something they did not want to contemplate. It was hard to ignore the thought in the back of their minds, though. Claudia's screams, shrill, angry and spine chilling, were still filtering through the heavy metal door that also happened to be Zelphia's living space.

Perhaps half the reason they were still hesitating to react was because of the things they saw that morning that persisted in haunted them. All of them had different images spied from different viewpoints but the bottom line was the same. At the sound of the ruckus, Sibylla had emerged from her room with just a simple robe, her shield and ax ready. She was just in time to watch Claudia lunge for Bann-Je. There was nothing natural in the Imperial's movements, even at the speed at which she moved. They resembled that of a starved animal more than anything else and the speed was so great only Bann-Je's equally insane reflexes allowed him to dodge in time. When Claudia hit the spot that the Argonian had been in, it bought Zelphia just enough time to tackle Claudia on the spot. It stopped the newly birthed vampire all for three precious seconds before she squirmed from Zelphia's grasp and made a lunge for Do'Ravier.

Perhaps the only thing that kept Claudia from sinking her new fangs into his neck was that he had somehow caught her face with his paws. Either way, the cat could have only been lucky because there was no way he would have been able to bring his hands up in time as a reaction. When Claudia connected with him, the force brought them both onto the floor, the wind knocked from the Khajiit and Claudia snarling hungrily. Do'Ravier's muscle shook with the strain of trying to keep her from his neck and for a moment someplace in his mind he noted that her eyes were a deep, bloodshot red and it disturbed him how disconnected that observation was. He could feel her fangs starting to run through the hair on his neck when she was suddenly pulled off of him by Zelphia.

**"**Run, you fool cat!" the older vampire shouted, hands firmly holding the Imperial back. Do'Ravier had never moved quicker in his life before.

The struggle became tense as Zelphia continued to hold Claudia back and it was clear they were locked in a broiling impasse that in no way appeared to remain that way for long. Zelphia was either shocked or slightly terrified. She yelled why as she continued to restrain the vampiric Imperial.

**"**How are you this strong? You just turned!"

Claudia continued to howl and scream, jaws always opened to reveal her teeth and fangs. They started to realize that Zelphia was noise to her, an obnoxious noise. Her only focus was opening up her former teammates just to consume their blood.

**"**I-I need help!" Zelphia suddenly shrieked, realizing that she was losing her hold on Claudia and this time that inadequacy would prove fatal.

**"**Help!"

**"**How?" Do'Ravier shouted in panic. None of his spells were geared towards incapacitation and as powerful as Claudia appeared, one barest miscalculation would mean the difference between Claudia being gravely injured or dead.

They suddenly heard Sibylla let out a battle cry which drowned out all of them and saw the Nord rushing from down the stairs. Before any could react the Nord leaped down from the lowest landing and brought the face of her shield in a staggering punch towards Claudia's head. There was a sickening smack, enough so that Bann-Je and Do'Ravier, who had winced, were certain that was it for Claudia.

Then they heard her screaming again in rage.

**"**Enough!" Sibylla cried and driver the flat of her shield down on her friend again and again and again. Just when she thought her arms could go no more Claudia suddenly went limp and hung in Zelphia's grasp.

**"**...My gods...that would have pulped a dozen heads...how is her face only flush?" Sibylla panted.

**"**Something's wrong. No time to wonder. Help me get her shackled in my room. Now!" Zelphia barked. Claudia's non-belligerent form was firmly grasped in the tight, tense hands of her hands and frantically rushed up the stairs where they bound her lips in eight shackles, two for each limb.

And that brought them to their current situation.

"What are we going to do?" Sibylla asked again, the Nord's voice devoid of most of it's usual imposing vigor. As far as Bann-Je and Do'Ravier were concerned, it was the most helpless sounding they had ever heard from her.

**"**I've donated blood. Muraat has donated blood. Sylva has donated blood and that has all been within the space of this morning. I donated more again this afternoon and you just did awhile ago. We don't have anymore more of those Dwemer needle capsules and healers generally discourage cross contamination. My healing magic can help to alleviate the blood loss but it is not self sustaining. We'll need to let our bodies naturally replenish depleted blood or we'll slowly but surely grow weaker. We're in a bind and I can't find an answer in these books." Do'Ravier explained with a grumble, frustratingly slamming a book shut.

"Will any blood do? My camel Karl is still standing out there doing nothing and I'm sure he's got plenty of blood to spare."

"Zelphia once explained that for a vampire, animal blood is like living off of lettuce leaves and fruit rinds. You'll survive but it won't slack the hunger. And Do'Ravier is under the impression that what we know as 'hunger' does not begin to describe what a vampire feels."

**"**So we just sit here and wait it out?" Sibylla snapped, clearly against the idea.

**"**I'm not finding anything! There's always speculation of a cure but if there is one, only the Divines or a Daedra Lord would know!" the Khajiit hollered.

**"**The voices in my head tell me that it might have been misplaced." Bann-Je announced. He was ignored.

**"**Are you still bickering about what to do about your friend?" Zelphia grumbled, stalking into the room.

**"**And what if we are?" Sibylla growled.

**"**You can't do anything." the vampire shrugged.

**"**What do you mean we 'can't do anything?'" the Nord reiterated venomously. Zelphia did not seem fazed by the woman's ire.

**"**I mean it's a waste of time and energy trying to figure out what to do. She'll either snap out of her murderous haze or...she'll never come out. She'll just disguise it." Zelphia explained, leaning against a bookshelf.

**"**And there's nothing that can be done to help her come out with some form of sanity?" Do'Ravier inquired with a frown.

**"**Pfft. I haven't found one." the vampire scoffed.

**"**Well, we have to do _something!_**" **Sibylla protested.

**"**Why? Aren't you the type that believes the Divines sometimes intervene?" Zelphia inquired. No one could tell if she was mocking them or shaming them.

**"**That doesn't mean we should just sit around doing nothing!"

**"**You've done everything you can do, right? Isn't that a sign that everything is now in the Divines' hands?"

Sibylla scowled and glared at her but then stomped off. Do'Ravier felt bad for his Nordic friend, he even shared her sentiments but he also knew Zelphia had a point. Looking back at the vampire, he shot her a wry look.

**"**Are you sure you're not a priest, or have you ever moonlighted as one in those three centuries of yours?"

**"**Bah, long story. I guess I better go back and check on my infernally loud new roommate. If it wouldn't be biting the hand that feeds me I'd start charging you louts." Zelphia grumbled before leaving.

Truth be told, while Zelphia could have done without all the noise her new cellmate was making, a part of her did feel a sense of solidarity with the younger woman. After all, as much as she would have liked to have forgotten her own transition, it was not terribly different from Claudia's. While all vampirism sprang from the same basic disease, the change manifested itself differently among different people. The pattern was there, enough for healers and inquisitors to know what to look for, but a great many details changed from bloodline to bloodline, vampiric coven to vampiric coven.

She was still puzzled by why Claudia's particular form was rather unique, even by the different standards Zelphia had learned to look for. She had done a lot of research on the matter in her three centuries. It seemed that every other decade she would decide that she would go find the cure and then the next decade give up on it. Some rumors of a cure found by witches here, another whisper of a dark promise to the daedra lords there. It was all hearsay and madness. Her best guess while Claudia was acting differently was from the description the former vigilants had given her before all of this transpired. Claudia got her disease from a coven of vampires the others swore looked sickly and diseased. Vampires did not suffer the ill effects of sickness. Oh they got weak and ornery when they lacked blood but that was a different book altogether from the symptoms she heard coming from the vampires that gave Claudia the curse. If their strain had somehow been altered by this mage of Peryite then all the rules had been changed and none could read the book.

Her new guest was expertly shackled and effectively bolted to the far wall of the cell. A heavy leather muzzle was drawn over her mouth and that too locked with chains behind her head. Her eyes were clearly angry but remained the dull pink they had always been. This meant nothing, sometimes a vampire's eyes changed, sometimes they did not. Zelphia found no pattern to it in her near three centuries of being a vampire. Claudia's loathing eyes followed her as she entered with barely a sound and slipped over to a nearby simple hammock.

"I used to be like you, you know? A nice young lady with my own life ahead of me. I even had friends; you wouldn't believe it now seeing me the I am, wouldn't you?" Zelphia chuckled to herself. Claudia just let out an animalistic growl.

"Oh hush, just listen to Zelphia's story. This was a long time ago. We still had swords and bows, we weren't beating each other with stones or anything like that. I understand it was a much nicer time. There was no silly rebellion up in Skyrim; the High Elves were even obediently part of the Empire and the Dark Elves were still rounding out cats and lizards to use as slaves. It was a simpler time then." Zelphia reported, flint cold eyes staring up into the dim light of the old Dwemer lantern wistfully.

"Did you know that I was part of a noble family? I think you are too, you got that willful spirit to you, the one that has no problem giving out orders or going on an idea that enters your head. Hahaha, we could have easily been friends. Or enemies. We're just a few too many centuries apart from each other. Do'Ravier and Bann-Je, what kind of names are those? Anyway, they tell me you were all priests of some sort before you all went your separate ways. Did you know it was a vampire posing as a priest that gave me this curse? Oh, yes, how scandalous." Zelphia giggled.

Her captured audience of one did not make any noise and Zelphia honestly was not paying attention. She tried to probe her memories of what happened next. She had come to the temple to pray at night. She was the pious type and she remembered one of the priests saying how important it was to pray many times in a day, preferably in a holy place. Zelphia had done just that. The vampire had snuck into the temple posing as one of the members of the cloth. She had seen him when she entered but did not pay too much attention to him. After all, what was so out of place of a priest being in a temple? She kneeled to pray and that was when the vampire sprang on her. The images got distorted after that and most of them involved her first kills out on the streets of the Imperial City. She remember she somehow got caught and that was why she had to flee.

Once you have fallen into the darkness, you care little for your past life. A small tinge of regret flickered in her for her parents. They seemed horrified and sorrowful the last time she saw them before she fled. That quickly disappeared too under the corroding influence of the darkness in her. Her first place of refuge were the city sewers where she lived like a little rat, preying on the stupid or occasionally coming up at night to off an unsuspecting begger and drag them down below. But, as time went on she could tell people were getting suspicious and she was tired of the damp so she left. She went east to Morrowind before rounding down south for a time in the Black Marsh. She didn't care for the taste of Argonians so she left and went...she didn't remember anymore. Maybe it was Skyrim, maybe it was Valenwood. She had been to each of those places at least twice in her travels. Looking back she was little more than a sophisticated animal. Her past life, her faith, her possessions...none of it meant anything anymore. Everything had turned into a means to an end, and that end was to kill because nothing could squash the hunger for long. And even then, about a century ago, that too started to fade and then she felt that long forgotten emotion of regret. Was that how she ended up here, trying to find a cure? It was all hazy.

"Ancient history...all of it." Zelphia murmured before rolling over and casting Claudia a sly grin.

"Now, you can choose to try and take a stand against that burning, gnawing feeling inside you. Oh you can't beat the curse, I know that's for sure. But you can also choose not to be a slave to it. So, are you willing to listen?"

The two eyed each other for a long time in the gloomy light.

* * *

><p>The three sat moping at the lobby counter. The dinner they ate was light as none of them felt like eating. Do'Ravier and Sibylla were also slightly light headed due to the missing blood in their system which they had yet to get used to. Sylva was resting from an afternoon of hauling books around while Muraat had returned to his wife and their cozy abode in the small storehouse just outside the tower. Under any other circumstances it should have been a good evening but with their friend currently having a rather dramatic unlife change upstairs, they were on the verge of despair.<p>

**"**Tea?" Bann-Je offered Do'Ravier, a steaming brew of the Elsweyr cactus tea in his claws. The Khajiit simply grunted and dragged the warm mug closer to him.

**"**I keep telling myself it could be worse." Sibylla mumbled to no one in particular.

**"**Yes, just don't tempt fate." Do'Ravier muttered.

Bann-Je didn't say anything, but one voice wondered why not tempt fate? The worst that could possibly happen would be that you ended up in an even worse situation. Chances were, you might just go crazy instead and at the end of the day, crazy wasn't too bad.

They all looked over when they heard a heavy knock on the metal doors that barred the entrance. Sibylla was simply curious but Bann-Je and Do'Ravier immediately found this as a cause for concern. Most of their regular visitors simply walked in, made themselves at home and did business. Only the new and uninitiated knocked. While this was still a sign of manners being practiced the last thing they needed was a hungry vampire upstairs and a visitor they had no prior knowledge of.

"Should I send them away?" Sibylla offered.

"No, Do'Ravier will get it." the Khajiit sighed before heavily getting up from his stool. That quickly became irrelevant because their visitor helped themselves in. The figure was slim and wore a deep purple desert robe and hood. They all quickly spotted the stranger's foot paws which were bound in light cloth wrappings, presumably to keep the foot pads from being scorched raw by the desert sands. Behind the paws was a rapidly swishing tail. Before anyone could ask, they all heard Do'Ravier sniff the air deeply. He immediately shook his head.

"What do you want, Sharza?" the battlemage asked with strained patience.

"What? That is how you greet Sharza? Do'Ravier doesn't think that might be rude?" she demanded, popping her head out of her hood in ire. Sibylla and Bann-Je cast sideways glances at each other.

"Hello, Sharza. Do'Ravier knows you do not just show up out of nowhere for no reason. So what trouble did you get yourself into now?"

"Do'Ravier, you don't believe Sharza wouldn't just miss her old life long friend and go visit the lout that almost married her long dead baby sister?" the thief protested.

"No."

"Ohh...very well, you're right, Sharza is in trouble." she pouted.

"I knew it." Do'Ravier grumbled with a sigh.

"Sharza! Where have you been, it's good to see you." Sibylla greeted, clamping the Khajiit in a tight hug. The cat woman giggled with happiness.

"Sibylla, don't encourage her." Do'Ravier grumbled under his breath.

"Oh hush, you're just mad that...what is _that?"_the Nord blurted, suddenly noticing something outside her door. She promptly dropped Sharza.

"Oh yes, before Sharza tells her troubles, she should probably tell you that you have problems of your own. No, Sharza did not bring this one, she does not know where that came from." the Khajiit defended herself quickly.

They all crowded outside the door to witness something they were not quite sure what to place. In fact, none of it made sense but the fact that they were all seeing it confirmed that it was no mirage. It was something quite out of a nightmare.

Thick, wet and speckled with various spots of green shades was an enormous creature that moved along the sands on a slimy monopod. Six massive stalks emerged from three protrusions that intersected into its main body. When the three raised their heads, they unveiled gaping maws with multiple rows of teeth.

"Is that...a giant demonic slug?" Do'Ravier sputtered.

"With three heads?" Sibylla demanded.

"Ah, that's what the voice in my head told me about." Bann-Je said, now content to know that the voices in his head were not completely crazy.

"Sharza thinks its headed this way." the thief observed.

"Bann-Je, get Maruut and his wife and get them in here, that storeroom would get engulfed by it's bulk!" Do'Ravier ordered. The closer it got, the more they realized it was about as tall as the first story of the tower and each head protrusion was just as wide as their bastion. How could such a thing exist?

"May Sharza suggest a lot of salt?"

"Do'Ravier highly doubts salt is going to solve this problem."

The occupants of the tower scurried to round everyone up into it's hold and quickly worked to bolt the doors. They knew not where their enemy came from, nor its purpose or how it was even made. None of this mattered, their hands were forced and now they were under siege.


	33. Chapter 33

_"The bigger they are, the harder they fall_

_This makes it all the more important that you stand clear when they do._

_Nobody sings of the hero who slays a dragon and then gets smashed beneath it."_

- Unknown Akaviri dragon hunter

* * *

><p>It is rare to be put under siege without warning. The march of an army kicking up sand in the desert could be likened to a miniature sandstorm and is easily picked out from a tower. Plus an army makes a lot of noise. Unfortunately, an enormous slug, possibly of malevolent origins, is a little more stealthier as it does not disturb the sand. Avoiding detection is also far easier when the occupants of the said tower have been tied up dealing with internal vampire problems. One would wonder if death by monster slug, while esoteric, would be a fitting and merciful end. The ex-Vigilants were not about to go quietly. They were all very unsettled by its arrival though. Whatever planning happened, it all occurred on the spot and in the spur of the moment.<p>

"Why is there a giant slug outside?" Sylva demanded amid all the hustle and bustle of Do'Ravier, Bann-Je and Sibylla rushing to throw on their armor.

"Don't know and I don't intend to ask it." Do'Ravier murmured.

"I don't think we can feed that thing if it's coming to visit." Muraat said as he tugged Karl the camel inside. The camel continued to be obstinate until Sibylla whacked it on the hindquarters.

"I think it would rather feed on us." Sibylla murmured, giving a warm up swing of her ax.

"And what do you three plan to do?" Sharza inquired.

"Go outside and kill it, of course." the Nord replied, in case it was not obvious enough.

"How?"

"I don't know. Any ideas, cat?" Sibylla asked Do'Ravier.

"Why are you asking me? Do you think Do'Ravier has read this in a book somewhere?" the battlemage shot back.

"I don't know what kind of books you read, maybe you did!"****  
><strong>**

"Salt, lots of salt would be good. Ice works just as well. Large hammer would be helpful." Bann-Je muttered. Everyone ignored him.

"We're going to have to fight it outside. We'll just get cornered in here and our weapons won't do much. We'll be more vulnerable of course, but we can at least warn others or distract it away from the tower." Sibylla analyzed out loud, watching the creature approach ever closer from the open door.

"I agree. I don't like it, but I agree." Do'Ravier nodded.

"Question: where exactly is the neck bone of a slug?" Bann-Je asked curiously, stepping up next to them.

"Do'Ravier does not think they have neck bones."

"Unfortunate." the assassin grumbled.

"We should step out and have them lock the door." the Khajiit suggested.

"Right."

There was a moment of tense silence as the Vigilants shared a look with the tower occupants, minus Zelphia and Claudia who were still up in the tower. There is always that one moment before a conflict where everyone involved takes a deep breath and realizes that more than just their own lives are at stake. Whatever petty problems there were before, they suddenly disappear while the individuals find stores of concern they may have never realized they had for others. It is always a very sobering moment.

"Engage the locking mechanism once the doors are closed. If anything goes wrong, retreat down into the ruins on the lower levels where the food and water are stored. Don't do anything stupid." Do'Ravier instructed although he seemed to be looking more at Sylva.

"And don't you three die out there." Muraat replied before the heavy metal doors banged shut.

Once again, the three were left staring at their approaching enemy. The slug was a good quarter of a mile off now but they could already smell a rather pungent stench. It was also clear that the sticky shimmer the saw was from a thick layer of slime that carpeted the entire fiend. Ominously, all six eye stalks were already bent down and pointed at them.

"Hope you two still know how to wear your armor and that it still fits you." Sibylla chuckled, poking the plate armor under the Khajiit's robes. Both he and Bann-Je were not amused but they were reminded of Sibylla's light hearted approach to battle. They felt a distant but well welcomed feeling of familiarity.

"The way I see it, we have one tower and three tiny 'us' versus big 'him' over there." Sibylla laid out for them, highlighting each entity with the point of her ax. "I suggest we split up around the tower. I'll stand on the right and you two stand on the left. Either it needs to focus on one target at a time or try to take on all three of us at once. Either way, we can adapt to counter him."

"You sure sound confident we can handle it."

"I don't plan on dying, Khajiit. Do you?"

"I fully intend to live." Do'Ravier murmured, cursing himself silently because he realized he forgot to bring extra bottles of magcika potions.

"Hmmm, very good. I intend to live as well. Well, all three of me." Bann-Je agreed.

"All right then, lets move." Sibylla declared, immediately placing her jet black helmet over her head. Do'Ravier and Bann-Je wasted no time getting into position either. It could not have come at a better time. The slug was nearly upon them.

* * *

><p>Anyone who does not understand the underpinnings of claustrophobia have never been cornered in their lives. A frantic urgency starts to suffocate at the person who fears they are in mortal danger and there is no space to turn. It is all someone can do not to frantically start tearing at the walls. This suffocation threatened to seize the people in the tower. Only the camel was blissfully unaware of what was going on.<p>

Nonetheless, an individual may find strength in the fear. The mind can be unpredictable under such duress. One moment all thoughts may be focused on trying to escape or being locked up. The next moment a small whisper may rebound and every ounce of fear may suddenly go up in an inferno of rage. It's all a matter of keeping it focused and controlling it.

As Muraat and his wife disappeared down the doors that led to the underground ruins, Sharza looked up and noticed Sylva heading the exact opposite direction. The mage was ascending the tower. Closing the door behind the blacksmith and his wife, the Khajiit eagerly bounded up the stairs to catch up with Sylva.

"What are you doing? We should be going back to safety." Sharza said.

"You can do that but until the doors look like they are on the verge of breaking, I'm going to see if there's a way I can take a stab at that thing." Sylva muttered, eyes focused further up the stairs.

"Do you have a giant crossbow upstairs?"

"No, but I'm a mage. I'm sure I can think of some type of nasty spell."

"Sharza supposes she should help then." the Khajiit sighed. She did always keep a few literal tricks up her sleeves. It just went with her trade.

The two heard a door slam open further up the steps followed by rapid footfalls. Sylva let out a sigh of strained annoyance while Sharza glanced at her in curiosity. The thief had not been properly introduced to everyone in the tower. Sylva already sensed a trainwreck approaching, mostly in the form of Zelphia heading straight towards them.

"Sylva, what is the hold up? You all know that our new guest is ravenous! Where is the food?"

"We have a little bit of an emergency outside, Zelphia." Sylva bit.

"We're going to have an emergency in here once my new cell mate wakes up from the concussion I gave her!"

"...What is going on?" Sharza asked, completely bewildered.

"Ahh, new blood! Just what we need." Zelphia stated just a little too eagerly upon noticing Sharza. This immediately unnerved her.

"Uhh, what's going on?"

"Oh, I'm a special sort of cannibal, the type that just likes blood. And my new roommate shares the same problem. Care to make a donation? It makes every a little less ornery if you just willingly donate and we don't take it from you." Zelphia grinned wildly. It took a moment before Sharza suddenly realized exactly what Zelphia was talking about.

"That's not funny." Sharza sputtered.

"She's not joking." Sylva grumbled, still marching up the stairs.

"Why do you have a vampire in your tower?" Sharza squeaked with fright, rushing away from Zelphia.

"Long story. Zelphia, you don't think you could take blood from a giant slug, could you?"

The vampire stared at her quizzically.

"Follow us, you're going to have to see this."

The three went up to the very top and into Do'Ravier's study. Beyond the bookshelves and opposite to his desk was a large balcony that looked out into the dunes and the far off horizon. It also afforded a good view of anything in front of the tower; including the direction from which the giant slug came from.

"Good gods, in all my three centuries I can't say I've seen anything like that!" Zelphia exclaimed when she first saw the monstrosity.****  
><strong>**

The creature had now parked itself very near the tower. They could also see that their friends had split up. For the moment, the tactic seemed to have some kind of effect since one head had gone in Sibylla's direction while the other two followed Do'Ravier and Bann-Je. Whether or not the monster realized it, all three of them were leading the creature slowly past the tower where the slug could become wedged upon the building itself.

"Provided they kill it, how are you all going to get out?" Zelphia inquired.

"You know, I think we'll put that fire out once we get rid of the much bigger one of actually killing it." Sylva muttered.

"Might help if creepy vampire could uh...eat slug." Sharza suggested, hoping to entice the vampire's interest on something other than them.

"Ugh, that looks more like mucus than blood. No, absolutely not. Please Sylva, do you have nothing? You don't want two hunger starved vampires in this tower." The Redguard fell silent, trying to decide what would make the most tactical sense in this situation.

"You'll find a camel at the bottom of the tower. Keep the animal alive. I'm sure Sibylla will understand. Well, it will be easier to ask forgiveness from the woman rather than beg permission from her." Sylva finally decided. Zelphia actually hesitated for a moment.

"Ugh, it is so hard to find good and willing help these days." the vampire muttered before trudging off to make the descent down the tower. Sharza waited until she was long gone before looking over at Sylva.

"Are you sure this is the best living arrangement?"

"It's what I have to live with. And you and I better start thinking of something to do otherwise we won't be living here for long."

"But what are we going to do against that thing?" Sharza sputtered, pointing down at the slug that had now embraced the tower in a sticky, slimy hug, still following three heavily armed morsels.

Sylva frowned again, trying to think. She let a faint ball of ice form at her palms, the only field of destructive magic she had learned over the years. Back in the old Dwarven ruins when she first bumped into Do'Ravier, she had no mastery of any offensive spells. Looking back, she wondered why she ever chose ice. Ice was more complicated, it had to be formed into a solid mass before it could do catastrophic damage. Fire and electricity needed to only be cast at an opponent. Ice needed a longer form time. Suddenly, a light turned on behind her eyes.

"...I think I have an idea, Sharza."

* * *

><p>The Alik'r sun was becoming an inferno overhead. That sands only mirrored the burning orb overhead and the place had become unbearable. For Sibylla, her white robes helped to keep the worst of the heat off of her but it was very unpleasant within the confines of her jet black armor and they had barely started moving yet. She wondered how Do'Ravier and Bann-Je were faring. It had been a long time since she had to keep a small cache of worry in the back of her mind over comrades and teammates. It felt odd, like a misplaced finger in a glove. That was about as much reflection she could do before reality prompted her to focus on the one giant slug head in front of her.<p>

It looked big enough outside but now it just seemed overwhelming. She imagined this was what a bug felt like when they stared up at a human. The slug was just a mountain of slimy green flesh and she was certain she could feel moist particles in the air from where the mucus cascaded off of it and onto the sand from it's sheer size. The eyestalks and the orbs utop of them were twice her height and both seemed fixed on her.

Sibylla glanced over. A good distance away from her, she could see that Bann-Je and Do'Ravier were keeping roughly parallel to her, baiting the slug to continue following them. At this point they had nearly completed their idea of lodging the monstrosity upon the tower. They just had to keep retreating a few more feet...

The Nord immediately glanced up when she heard a reverberating roar echo from the slug. She saw the creature begin to rear it's whale like head. While all of its motions had been slow and predictable until now this one movement seemed to be a massive leap forward, as if it had been biding its strength until this moment. The mountain of bulk lurched toward her. Sibylla's instinct to leap back was the only thing that prevented her from getting squashed as she winced from the impact upon the sands. Ignoring the gratuitous amount of slime that had showed upon her, she hacked at the flesh in front of her. Tissue and skin fell away easily enough from the blows of her ax but all she found was more soft mire and for all her efforts, the thing only let out a rumbling sound of annoyance. She found no blood.

It was only then that the Nord realized that even though the wound she had made would have been catastrophic to any other creature, to this slug the crater she had gouged out might as well have been a tiny ripped scab upon her own body.

"I'm not going to be able to kill this..." Sibylla sputtered in shock just as the slug shuddered and her vision filled with mucus again.

Opposite to her, the Argonian and Khajiit were moving as fast as they could.

"Do you think it's sufficiently caught now? I don't think it could back up if it wanted to and I doubt it's going forward." Do'Ravier observed. They both took a quick glance over to see how Sibylla was doing. The situation was getting desperate but they could at least take solace in that she was still alive.

"No more time, must silence this thing. For three brains it is not very bright." Bann-Je muttered in his usual broken fashion.

"Sibylla is going to need help."

Before Do'Ravier could make any more statements, the heads on their side began to get aggressive as well. Both reared up to expose their circular mouths lined with multiple rows of sharp teeth. The giant maws repeatedly stretched up only to attempt immediately crashing down on them. Bann-Je and Do'Ravier both dodged but just barely.

"All of this mass will mean nothing if it can't see us." the assassin said before starting to circle off to the side.

"What are you doing?" Do'Ravier demanded.

"I intend to climb it." Bann-Je announced.

"What?"

The battlemage had no time to try and deduce his friend's line of thinking because the Argonian was already moving. Smoothly, as if he did this all the time, Bann-Je continued circling closer to the creatures' side, confident that the slug's eyes were still focused on Do'Ravier. Quickly, the assassin was trying to climb up the monster's side when he ran into an immediate problem.

"Oh for the love of the Divines..." Bann-Je murmured to himself as he became mired in slime and found himself more concerned with wiping the gore off of himself rather than climbing. He had simply floundered and flailed in the sticky mess and got nowhere. He also felt a stinging sensation where the mucus had lingered too long. This was a nuisance.

"Do you have anything that could help?" Bann-Je called to his friend. Do'Ravier smiled before planting his spear into the ground. There was a trick he learned back in the deserts of Elsweyr.

"I won't get a second chance so you better make this count."

"I won't need a second chance and this slug won't have another either."

Without a word, Do'Ravier raised both of his paws and started to focus his magicka reserves. Initially, it did not look like anything was happening until the sands around him started to shift and rise. With a rapid forward motion, a massive sandstorm rose from the ground as the Khajiit focused his telekinetic abilities to sweep the sands around him. Bolts of lighting punctured the dark cloud driving home onto the slug. At first Bann-Je was not sure how Do'Ravier considered this as help until he noticed the sand starting to collect on the slug. The grains of sand were drying up the mucus and would provide him traction. The assassin wasted no time.

It was an odd feeling, climbing a writhing mountain that moved underneath his claws without any care for him. Bann-Je had little time to consider what was going on. Trying to keep the sand out of his eyes, he fought his way upwards since the dust would only afford him a precious few seconds of footing before he would start to slide again. Somewhere across the tower he could hear Sibylla shouting but there was no time for that. He heard the occasional lightning bolt split the air but he had to focus. He made it to the top and then switched his direction. There was little sand here to help him now so he was on his own. He trotted before setting his feet and letting himself slide the rest of the way. Rapidly growing in his vision were the two eyestalks of the head he had climbed on. Bann-Je summoned his ethereal blades just before he was upon them. For all their length, neither eyestalk was particularly bulky. The assassin's heart skipped a beat when both seemed to be snipped right off and he just barely caught himself from skiing off the slimy behemoth.

Claws sunk into the flesh, and wrist deep in mucus, Bann-Je let himself catch a breath as time seemed to stop. Down below him, he heard Do'Ravier let out a nervous bark of laughter.

"I think you hurt it!"

The slug immediately roared from all three heads. Bann-Je instinctively tensed up as he felt the laws of physics suddenly get amped up. He was a flea on a suddenly rapidly moving body and he was not sure where it would take him.

"I think I just made it angry!" the Argonian shouted back.

* * *

><p>Sibylla was not sure what those two jesters did but whatever it was, she did not appreciate it. For a while her standoff with the monster come to a standstill. The Nord was not about to make the first move so she started to bait it. Letting out a battlecry, she began to beat her ax on the side of her shield. All she needed was it to continue to move in the short, deliberate lunges it had been making. The warrior felt like she was getting somewhere when the slug suddenly shuddered throughout its whole body. Instead of a small reaction, she sensed the monster getting full on enraged. This got Sibylla angry too.<p>

"What did you two mangy beasts do?" the Nord screamed angrily in their direction.

"Do'Ravier is not mangy! You take that back!"

Sibylla let out a shout of fury and frustration and quickly turned her attention back at her enemy. She was going to get far more than she ever bargained for and there was nothing she could do about it. The creature reared its head, exposing its gaping mouth and many maws and Sibylla realized she probably only had one good way of hurting this beast. She did not like it because the Nord knew that she would only get one shot at it. If she did not do it right, it would be catastrophic.

The slug let out a roar, one that she matched as she fell into a stance, shield raised and ax readied. The monster plunged back down and in an instant Sibylla was swallowed.

Do'Ravier stared in bewildered horror as Sibylla disappeared. Bann-Je was holding on for his life and Sibylla looked like she had just become an extra crunchy snack. The battlemage stood there, unsure of what to do. Either he help his friend who was in dire straits or gamble on the slightest glimpse of hope that maybe he could prompt the slug to cough up the Nord. He felt his magicka reserves running close on empty. Whichever decision he made, he could not do both.

"Bann-Je, hold on!" the battlemage shouted, building a crackling, writhing storm between his paws.

"Not that I have much choice." the Argonian muttered. Letting go meant the very likely possibility of getting crushed upon the sands under a slimy heavy mass. At least the creature did not seem to have a way of brushing him off.

One head, the one whose eyes he had not removed, spotted him. It reared up and landed to rest upon the one he was clinging to. The Argonian realized exactly what was going to happen. The thing aimed to sweep its head upon the other and pulverize him in the process. Bann-Je let out a shout and began to wiggle his way down the mass of flesh and slime. He had to get clear.

Do'Ravier let the electricity fly from his paws and the lance of energy struck the target. The slug reared back up with a furious roar revealing Sibylla still standing on the ground, shield still up while her ax was covered in dripping gore. A torrent of crimson was falling from the slug's mouth. Seeing blood for the first time, she let out a whoop of victory before suddenly realizing she was still under the slug which could come crashing down any moment. Sibylla turned on her heels and ran.

Do'Ravier looked over just in time to see one of the heads coming his direction. He had no time to react and simply grabbed his spear and held it in front of him. The force that hit him effectively knocked the air from his lungs, the spear stuck to the flesh and he clutching onto it for dear life. Whether he liked it or not, he was going for a ride. Whatever worry he had for the fate of Bann-Je was ever so momentarily alleviated when he heard a familiar voice let out a complaint.

"I need to start getting paid for this nonsense, like I used to."

* * *

><p>Do'Ravier's study had turned from a library to an icebox. A ludicrous pile of discarded bottles sat near the entrance of the room. All of them had once contained an elixir restore a mage's magicka reserves. Sylva's plan had been simple. A large ice shard is often fatal to normal sized enemies. A bigger target requires a bigger spike.<p>

Sylva had spent the last half hour nursing the mother of all frozen stakes. It was as long as four men and far too wide to pass through any door.

Sharza had added more robes to her body and even found some mits to wear, a very odd sight in the middle of the Alik'r. It was her job to continue brewing elixirs while a very frayed and exhausted Sylva continued her magic, seemingly massaging and growing a massive weapon out of thin air. In contrast to Sharza, she still had her regular clothes, some beads of ice clung to her but otherwise she continued her work through deep breaths and trembling muscles.

"Sharza thinks that's big enough." the Khajiit shivered, hopping awkwardly for warmth next to the mage.

"Just a little more..."

"Sharza has another question."

"What?" Sylva snapped, her exhaustion was making her a little peevish.

"How are you going to drop that on the slug?"

Sylva promptly stopped dead on her handiwork. This whole time she had been so focused on making the projectile heavy and dense she had forgotten how she was going to actually fire the entire mass at the monster. She at least kept the width from exceeding the dimensions of the balcony area but that was where any lucky happenstance ended.

"Oh...oh...shoot. Help me push this." Sylva sputtered in resignation. There was no more time to plan.

"Call Sharza a little pessimistic on this, but we're not moving this thing." the Khajiit shook her head.

"Help me push this!" Sylva hollered, putting her back into it.

"Very well..." Sharza muttered, not willing to argue with the ill-tempered Redguard.

The two heaved and pushed but the boulder of ice was stuck. They were not going anywhere. Sylva continued to blindly push, not wanting her efforts to be in vain. They could hear the fight getting more violent outside but the laws of physics was getting in the way of them lending aid to the melee.

Suddenly, the ice shard began to move rapidly. Someone was in their midst and was singlehandedly sliding the projectile of their own accord. The surprise caught Sylva and Sharza off guard and both slipped to the floor as the stranger shoved the freezing mass across the floor and over the balcony. The spike emerged like a crystal blade in the bright sun before the point swung down as gravity dictated. From there it was just a matter of watching nature work.

The projectile fell and before anyone could take a breath the mass slide right into the juncture point where all three of the slug's heads connected to it's body. The monster immediately fell silent and an ominous shudder rippled through it's bulk.

Everyone let out a gasp as a thunderous crack rent the air. The sudden heat of being exposed into the desert sun caused the ice shard to rapidly expand cracks began to snake along the icy form. The spike split in half, further driving the massive wound open. With the sound of ponderous flesh falling dead to the ground, the slug stopped where it laid and moved no more. Somewhere on the ground, they could heard Sibylla yelling.

"Are you two mangy idiots still alive?"

"Yes, and stop calling us mangy!"

Upstairs, both Sharza and Sylva looked up to see their helper who had single handedly moved what would have taken an army to do the same thing. Both of them let out a gasp at what they realized it was Claudia.

The Imperial seemed collected now even if she stood over the balcony with a contemptuous sneer over the slug's corpse. Clasping her hands behind her waist, the vampire continued to survey the necrotizing bulk while her voice sounded like a grave in the dead of a Skyrim winter.

"Sylva, is there rope in this tower?"

"...Yes."

"Good. Send it down this balcony so my team may return without having to hack through that thing. I need them up here immediately." Claudia ordered before looking back at them. What Sharza and Sylva saw made their hearts stop.

Claudia looked normal, about as normal as a vampire could be expected to look like. However, there was one very glaring distinction that set her apart from everyone else. Just below her amber brown hair her eyes had turned into chilling, radiant sapphires. The deep cerulean orbs was enough to make Sharza's and Sylva's bones shiver.

"It is impolite to gawk." Claudia sniffed at them before leaving them where they were still sprawled out on the floor. Neither of them dared breath until Claudia had left. Sylva had scarcely gathered her wits before she felt Sharza furiously poking her.

"What?"

"Um, Sharza thinks we need to do something. Sharza thinks that mean vampire lady bit Claudia and now she's a vampire. Claudia is not hiding it very well!"


	34. Chapter 34

_Sometimes, the actions of those deemed insane_

_Are not a reflection of those whose mind is broken_

_But instead shows an individual who has nothing else left to lose_

* * *

><p>As ordered by Claudia, a rope was lowered down from the tower balcony so that the three warriors outside could be return back inside. This in itself took awhile since no singular rope could be found to clear the whole distance. Different lengths had to be tied together and then lowered off the balcony. On the flip side, the knotting created easy foot holds up the length. Clearing the carcass from the path of the door would be an important issue to clean up but at the moment everyone wanted to catch a breath in the safety and comfort inside the tower. Jarringly, while there was indeed safety and an opportunity for respite, there was also a very serious case of discomfort within in. A lot of it had to do with Claudia or at least what had become of her.<p>

The team had just hauled themselves up from the ground and were descending the staircase when they spotted her. It was a shocking, jaw dropping moment for all of them. Bann-Je, Sibylla and Do'Ravier stood where they arrived on the stairs, mouths ajar at what they saw.

Claudia was relaxing on one of the stools next to the serving counter. They had not expected to see her so collected and calm considering when they last heard her she was howling like a rabid animal. She also had found a fresh set of orange desert robes. The blue sapphires that burned like some unholy flame only completed the effect. There was something chilling in those eyes, enough to send shivers down their spines and limbs despite the heat of the desert.****  
><strong>**

"I assume you are all mostly unharmed?" Claudia asked simply as they all shuffled in and promptly stopped dead in their tracks.

"You all look alright." Claudia continued, assessing them as a smith would analyze edge of a blade. She was still met with silence.

"What is wrong? I am asking you questions." The vampire demanded, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"We're fine." Sibylla finally murmured. And with that, they shuffled right past her. Muraat and his wife were already hustling in the kitchens cooking up a victory meal of roast lamb and all the vegetables they could get their hands on. The usually overtly ordered Bann-Je who demanded full knowledge of their inventory decided to overlook this one. Sibylla walked up to one of her barrels of mead and began pouring tankards for everyone while savoring a long, slow swig from one herself. Do'Ravier and Sylva skipped the pleasantries and shared a long embrace while Sharza, always giddy, nabbed one of the tankards of mead from Sibylla. Claudia realized she was being ignored.

It was jarring enough getting use to this new change. She could still hear those heartbeats around her but now she could practically feel their body heat even though she was more than just an arm and a leg away from them. She could smell distinctive flavors and variations in scents in far more pronounced ways than she ever could when she was fully living. The could smell sweat and the scent of the sands. The faint traces of mead from Sibylla, soap on Bann-Je and even the various alchemical supplies Do'Ravier had been working on, their scents were all clear to her. Everything was warm and full of life and flowing blood and Claudia felt it all the more distinctly because she knew that the shell she now wore was cold and empty. She was a walking catacomb, a mausoleum whose only purpose was to remind others of the now eternal visage that the once fully living Claudia used to wear. The vampire did not belong there among the living and she knew it. She quietly began to ascend the stairs. Her footfalls fell in silence her disappearance, if noticed, went ignored. Arriving near the top, she spotted Zelphia standing next to the door of the cell they shared, arms folded in front of her chest as some wry smirk marked her face.

"There's a reason I keep to myself. You might look like them. You convince them that you are like them. But never for once fool yourself into think that you are them." Zelphia explained. Claudia simply glared at her before stepping silently into her new room.

Downstairs, between mouthfuls of lamb, salted cabbage and warm buttered bread, the group retold their story of how they killed a giant. With the danger gone and their fates already known, it was easy to laugh and joke about the conflict when just an hour ago they had been in mortal fear. However, reality soon began to sink in and with it, questions about the changes that prompted them to this situation. As if driven by some unspoken rule, none of them wanted to talk about Claudia's change. Instead, attention focused on Sharza.

"So tell me, why did you show up at our tower again?" Do'Ravier asked Sharza, pointing at her with a bitten loaf of bread.

"Oh, Sharza just wanted to say hi to a friend she had not seen in a year."

"We went over this before, Sharza. My memory isn't that short and you said you were in trouble. What's going on? Actually, how did you know to come to this tower right in the middle of the desert?"

"Sharza heard of a Dwarven tower with a crazy mage in it. That obviously means Do'Ravier." the thief told him bluntly.

"That is a wild assumption." Do'Ravier retorted.

"That's how we found you." Sibylla butted in.

"You all make wild assumptions." Do'Ravier grumbled.

Bann-Je looked like he was about to make a comment but then thought better of it and got to scrubbing an imagined stain on the counter.

"Either way, Do'Ravier has a point. Why are you in trouble and what can we do to help?" Sibylla interjected, also looking at Sharza. No one could see it but the Khajiit momentarily blushed.

"Well, a Khajiit has to eat and all. Sharza needed work and so she went about looking for something to do in her line of work."

"I'm surprised Claudia never saw you in the whole year she spent in Sentinel." Sibylla observed.

"Sharza was not in Sentinel. Some high nose Redguard was running an operation of some sort in the city and felt himself too good for 'common pickpockets.' Yes, that's what he called Sharza! Common!"

"I highly doubt anyone in here can be considered common..." the Nord murmured light heartedly.

"So what did you do?" Bann-Je inquired, wanting the all important format of storytelling to be adhered to.

"There were bedouins." Sharza shrugged. That immediately prompted sharp looks from both Bann-Je and Do'Ravier.

"What?" Sharza demanded.

"Stealing from bedouins? Sharza, they do not have much to begin with." Do'Ravier scolded.

"That's only what they want you to believe. You should have seen some of the stuff Sharza made off with. The clan chiefs certainly tend to have a lot of shiny stuff in their tents." the thief whispered.

"So you angered a bunch of bedouin clans?" Sibylla guessed.

"Yes. A couple dozen out in the Alik'r, most of them on the coasts. But that's not what Sharza is here for. You see, Sharza was looking for this lost city that was supposedly a sheltered place for some of the more powerful clans. Stories say they kept all their shiniest, most expensive stuff in there."

"I am not helping you on another heist." Do'Ravier blurted in annoyance.

"Hush, hush. You talk too much. Sharza already attempted the heist."

"So what's the problem?"

"...It was a bad place." Sharza whispered, her face ashen.

"What do you mean a 'bad place?' Was there a lake of rot there?" Bann-Je inquired.

"...It smelled bad and there were bedouins wandering around the walls but they looked...very bad, very sick. Sharza thought they were dead but they might have been alive. Maybe."

"Well, where was it?" Do'Ravier asked.

"It is east of here, off the marked path, only the Bedouins are really privy to its location."

"Because anyone trying to risk getting there without knowing the bedouins' wells would dry up in the desert long before they got there." Sibylla said.

"Yes. But it looked very bad. Sharza is certain that there was something wrong there."

"...You want us to go look there, don't you?" Do'Ravier murmured, eyes closed as if dreading the response.

"Of course, isn't that the right thing to do? Only you people would know what to do. Sharza does not think anything natural is going on there."

"Maybe it's an outbreak, Sharza. Those things happen." Sibylla cautioned. Plague outbreaks, while common, were far from unheard of. Alas, in the face of an unknown disease, most healers knew of little other methods other than abandoning the place or quarantining it off. If a population was so badly afflicted it would be suicide to send in more healers only to watch them contract the disease and die themselves. At that point the only thing they could do was wait until it burned itself out.

"Sharza considered this...until...well..."

"Well what?"

"The slug sort of...crept over the walls and...started following Sharza." the Khajiit mumbled sheepishly.

"So you did bring it here!" Do'Ravier accused.

"It seemed intent on heading this direction anyway!" Sharza snapped back.

"Enough, both of you!" Sibylla shouted.

With the way things looked, both Khajiit seemed to be focusing on the minor details only because it was easier to get distracted from the more disturbing details. From the beginning plague and the unholy disruption of natural bodily operations marked the path of their target. This new incident was just too similar to be a coincidence.

"So we just follow the slug and we get to the city. Did it go in a straight line?" Bann-Je inquired.

"Yes."

"Then everything is set, unlike cleaning which never sets."

"I'm sure Claudia will want to know about this too. Either way, we need time to prepare. And someone has to help me clear that slug outside." Do'Ravier murmured.

"I think it was actually starting to shrivel due to water loss from the sun." Sylva observed.

"It's still going to take a while."

"It's getting late and Claudia is already gone. Lets just tell her tomorrow while we make preparations." Sibylla suggested.

The silence was the unspoken consent to the matter. Unfortunately, it also hid the question that they were all asking themselves; who was going to tell Claudia? Whether or not they consciously knew it, none of them wanted the honor to do so.

* * *

><p>Claudia had to fight in order to get any sleep that night. Zelphia had been considerate enough to warn her of some annoyances that would begin to crop up. She had to expect that she was still in a transitional process. Most vampires were nocturnal, it only worked to their favor so her trying to sleep at night would be met with as much ease as any day walker trying to switch over to a nocturnal routine. It was going to be hard and would feel like pulling teeth. (Or fangs in Claudia's case now.) However, after tenacious patience, Claudia was rewarded with respite. She was promptly bothered with a very vivid dream.<p>

She recognized it as the visions she used to have, from Azrua to Arkay to Stendarr. However, there was something wrong. She recognized the ball of light, the avatar that Stendarr chose to communicate to her through before. But right between her and the orb was a translucent but distinct, foggy wall as if a veil of smoke had been stretched and solidified between them. When Stendarr spoke, it was as if through through water. It lacked clarity and sounded like its full strength was being deadened by the wall.

"Those marred as undead rarely speak with the Divines and we to them." Stendarr started.

"These seem to be times for extreme measures to be taken." Claudia replied, walking along the wall while maintaining her focus on Stendarr. It was a half hearted attempt but she was looking for some hole in the partition.

"You now speak with confidence but is it because of contemptuousness or confidence of faith?"

"...I've given up making sense of it, I've lost everything and the only motive now I have is to see this to the end. That's the only answer I have." the vampire said. Most people would expect those in the presence of a Divine to be more respectful. Claudia saw herself as having nothing else left to lose and in all honesty, she half blamed the Divines for being in this situation herself.

"What do you see, Claudia?" the voice asked quietly.

She looked around her, peering at the dreamscape before her. Everything was glass and mirrors, silver and clouds. It expanded forever into a soft, pale sunrise that did not sting the eyes.

"You do not know the meaning of all of this nor could you grasp it. Eternity is a merely a vague concept to you but the deeds you do now echo through it's unending waters. There is injustice in doing nothing but there is also injustice in deeds done without a pure heart. Do not falter this close to the end of your race, Claudia."

"How do I know this is getting close to the end? How am I suppose to know which way to go forward? My team can't even look me in the eye anymore, I'm not even human!" Claudia suddenly screamed angrily, realizing just how frustrated she really was.

"I served you, all of the Divines, as a priestess and I become a vampire! I'm an outcast among men, mer and beasts! I bet you're the only Divine willing to even bother with me anymore, Arkay probably wouldn't touch me except with a loosed arrow!"

"Do not presume to know how the Divines act." Stendarr warned sternly.

"Tell tell me what to do, because I'm through presuming how to even handle this, this mission!"

She felt a flicker of warmth and wondered if for some reason it signaled a wry smile on Stendarr's part. That only served to further infuriate her but she kept quiet. She had just been warned to remain respectful of the very beings she worshipped even if she was anathama to them.

"You know what is right; then do what is right. That should direct your conduct. Act justly, dispense mercy, that is all that is what you must do."

"Why do you always speak in riddles?" Claudia screeched furiously, banging on the smoky wall.

"But if it is direction you seek, think back on the last Daedra that directed your steps."

"...But that was Sheogorath! What good could come from contacting him?" the vampire demanded.

She did not get an answer. Instead, she felt as if she were simply flung backwards. The orb of light that Stendarr was speaking through, the wall of smoke, the dreamscape, all of that was cast out of her vision and she woke with a startled gasp. It was going to be another three hours before dawn and she knew she would not be able to fall asleep before then. Claudia simply laid on her cot, it was not as if she could do anything else.

That morning, Sibylla was the first to wake among the group, at least those who were still considered living. Descending the stairs quietly in a warm, white dress, she noticed Claudia already at the counter, sipping a warm mug of tea. Her eyebrows went up when she noticed that her former superior seemed to have embraced her new transition by wearing set of black robes. Claudia glanced up at her as she was approaching, if only momentarily, before continuing to sip the drink. Sibylla took an uneasy seat next to her. The Nord had to force herself. She would have preferred to keep at least one if not two seat between her and the vampire. However, there was something bothering her and she knew she had to say something to Claudia.

"Look...sorry about last night. We're just not used to you being, well, what you are now. Especially since you tried to kill us all just a few days ago."

"Don't remind me." the vampire grumped.

"So...no hard feelings?"

"I suppose not but I am still trying to wrap my mind around this all."

"Speaking of which, Sharza explained she found a city out in the desert that seems to be suffering from some supernatural outbreak. It was also the same city the slug came from. That should probably be our next stop." Sibylla offered. Claudia did not seem appeased.

"The funny thing about this whole journey is that we've been wandering around doing and doing and doing and never once knowing the 'whys' of it. That just simply tells us what we need to do next; it does not tell us the root cause of it all." Claudia grumbled venomously.

"Maybe we'll find out there."

"Maybe we should find out sooner."

It was at that moment they heard someone whistling. Bann-Je walked up from his den on the lower levels and made his way around the corner of the counter to begin cooking breakfast. Other than the surprising knowledge that Argonians could in fact whistle, nothing seemed out of place. Even as he began to scrub some arbitrary spot on the counter three times, even as he entered and exited the counter three times, this was all just a normal routine to him and in a way, it had become normal to them. That was Bann-Je and he was insane that way. Except this time, Claudia stared at him as realization began to hit her like sudden Skyrim blizzard.

_ But if it is direction you seek, think back on the last Daedra that directed your steps_. Sheogorath was the Daedra Lord of madness and every single last one of them had noticed that Bann-Je seemed to have developed an additional personality as of late.

Somehow, someway, Bann-Je found himself on the floor, tackled by Claudia who was clutching his head and glaring into his eyes. Sibylla was making some racket or the other but otherwise kept her distance. That was sure to change if Claudia made any motions towards the Argonian's neck but for now it looked like they were going to have a surprise frank discussion.

"You, are you in there?" Claudia demanded.

"...What?" Bann-Je asked in complete bafflement.

"You, Sheogorath! Don't tell me you're not in there!"

"...Claudia..." Sibylla asked, flabbergasted more than anything else.

"If there's one thing the Daedra and Aedra haven't been able to do for the past year, it's bloody well leaving me alone. It wouldn't surprise me if Sheogorath decided to worm his way into your head. Oh, I'm going with a hunch here, but this would just be too good!"

"There is no Sheogorath here, just three voices in my head!"

"What is the name of the third voice, Bann-Je?" Claudia demanded grimly.

"...Um...Funny, he never mentioned his name." Bann-Je admitted, looking very thoughtful now.

"Talk to me now, Sheogorath, I demand it!"

Bann-Je suddenly blinked and his eyes went from yellow to cloudy white. This time when he spoke his voice and accent had changed wildly. Sibylla cried out in shock when she heard it but to Claudia it was a welcomed confirmation.

"Aye, what do we have here? Is some wee lassie making demands of me now?"

"Yes. I'm demanding that you tell me what in Oblivion is going on here!"

"What's going on? What's going on? Ha! Lassie, it would appear you're taking a bit of the loony trip yourself and bludgeoning a poor scaley lad for no reason."****  
><strong>**

"Don't toy with me, Sheogorath!" Claudia threatened. Bann-Je's claws clamped around her throat.

"Aye, let us make one thing very clear, lassie. You don't get to make demands like that, at least not from a Daedra, especially not one like me-self. That's a right pity too, especially since out of all my fellows, I'm the one that has toyed with you the least. How insane is that?"

"Then tell me what is going on!" Claudia snarled, tightening her hands around Bann-Je's own neck.

"Ah, I wouldn't do that, lass. See, you'll just end up killing your friend here. I'm just using him as a window of sorts."

"And killing me, all the way, would be a welcome relief."

"Are we being so proud? Perhaps I should go after you. Perhaps you need to be put in your place, wee mortal."

"I'm still going to defy you! Tell me what's going on, Sheogorath! Tell me!"

There was a tense moment where the air was dense with anticipation. It was jarringly shattered when Sheogorath's voice began to laugh. Sibylla and Claudia were woefully unprepared for that reaction. Claudia was even placed back on her feet as if all hostilities were forgotten.

"Oh ho ho ho! You have spirit, little vampire! But this, threatening me, promising to defy me? Now that's just bloody insane! It's hilarious! You're not laughing. Oh! Of course you're not laughing because you don't know what it's about. Well then, have a seat and old Sheogorath will explain it all over breakfast. I insist! It's been so long since I've cooked and the sheer hilarity of this, it just makes me want to tell it all to you. Mostly because it lets me spite the other god..." Sheogorath grumbled.

"The other god?" Sibylla asked.

"Tut tut! No interruptions! Sit, sit, I'll go make breakfast. Well, maybe just for the living woman. You go find some blood, or werewolves or babies, or whatever it is you undead like to eat these days. Now, where's some cheese? Cheese for everyone! Oh me, how I've missed that glorious bastard." Sheograth declared while zipping around in Bann-Je's body. The Argonian began raiding the larder just as Claudia and Sibylla were stunned into sitting down. Claudia may have wanted an explanation but this was far from what she was expecting.

Two cheese wedges were dropped right in front of them. Sheogorath belatedly remembered that Claudia was a vampire and frowned knowing that she would not be consuming cheese. Instead, he poured some red wine on her wedge with the declaration that it would "look like blood now at least" before lackadaisically sitting on a chair and grinned at both of them.

"Now then, what you really need to know is that Molag Bal, he's a bit of a bastard. All he cares about is manipulating you folks. Oh, we all like to do it, but he really likes to up it a notch, causing havoc. As he goes around and breaks things, that's how he collects your souls and all. What he does with them, I don't know. Actually, that reminds me, I should check on those clowns again. Or were they clouds? Hmm, I should go stylize my hair. Anyway! The blighter decides he should get creative so he tricks Peryite, the Daedra of decay, to go send a follower of his to go muck some stuff up with diseases. You with me so far? This is where things get complicated, lassies." Sheogorath did not even allow them a moment to nod.

"The trick is, this is still some plot by Molag Bal. Peryite is happily causing sickness and maladies as he's wont to do, but this is Molag Bal's project. In the end, he gets all the credit and Peryite is just along for the ride."

"So why did Azura get involved?" Claudia asked, earning her a confused look from Sibylla.

"Because she's a silly softie like that! ...You're not buying it? Well, I think it has something to do with the fact that she's a proud old bird. Perhaps her sitting out while two other Daedra got in with all the fun would have slighted her pride or something. Don't ask me the details on her motivations, she's the one that tried incarnation after incarnation of the Nerevarine. And you know what they say about someone who keeps doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. Determined!"

"Couldn't she have gotten her own acolyte to do something instead of, well, me?"

"How am I suppose to know? You're asking logic of me! Don't you see the problem with that?" Sheogorath retorted.

"...But then why did you get involved?" Sibylla inquired.

"Because...I can."

"Don't lie. You said you were doing something to another daedra by telling us this." Claudia scolded.

"Hahaha, well don't you get it? Vampirism first started with Molag Bal. That was his baby and it was a curse that became a disease. He's using the little errand boy of diseases to do his dirty work, but what should be the wee lassie that mucks up all his plans? Why, it's a vampire, a spawn of Molag Bal that defies Molag Bal! Hahahahaha, this is just too rich!"

And before they could hear Sheogorath laugh hysterically anymore, Bann-Je's eyes went normal and the voice left his throat. The Argonian fell off his chair and landed on the floor clutching his head. He groaned in pain.

"Argh! My head, I feel like a voice is missing."

Claudia sat in stunned silence. That was what this had all been about? This whole year, her current curse, their interrupted lives were all because of some Daedra toying with them? In a way, the Divines had been manipulated too; their followers forced along a path because of their predictable devotion. Claudia was not sure whether to be angry, to laugh or to cry. She was still in shock and everything felt hollow. She was still staring into thin air when Do'Ravier lazily shuffled down the stairs and let out a yawn.

"Did Do'Ravier miss anything?" he asked tiredly.


	35. Chapter 35

_Philosophers and teachers, they always tell of the importance of reflection_

_This is because reflecting too late is the hardest of all_

* * *

><p>The tower had become abuzz with activity. The hows and whys of their mission were laid bare, at least, as much as was needed to get them moving. Supplies from food to restorative potions had to be procured while Muraat fired up the forge to give some last minute maintenance to their armor and weapons. It was only then that Sibylla noticed how drowsy and lethargic her camel, Karl, had been acting. She was very sheepishly informed that during the slug incident, Zelphia had nearly drained the camel dry. Do'Ravier was called to deliver some restorative spell. The camel was brought back to acceptable functionality. Do'Ravier complained that the camel later stepped on his tail but this was considered a minor grievance and quickly ignored.<p>

"How far is this city from the tower?" Claudia asked Sharza in the midsts of the hustle and bustle.

"A day and a half west of here."

"I wonder why everyone has forgotten it." Sibylla asked outloud.

"You don't go off in a random direction of the Alik'r unless you're very adaquetly supplied. We're dead in the middle of the Alik'r and only the Bedouins know where all the water sources are; sources they jealously guard with their lives. We're already in the middle of the Alik'r. I doubt anyone has had reason to go striking off in that direction without promise of a guaranteed plunder." Do'Ravier explained.

"Which begs the question, how did you get around the desert stealing from the tribes?" Bann-Je inquired.

"Sharza learned to watch them go to their wells and to take a forgotten water flask before leaving when they were not looking." the Khajiit grinned sheepishly.  
>"You are both very clever and very dirty." the Argonian sniffed.<p>

"Sharza grooms everyday so she is only clever." she retorted.

Claudia did not get caught up in the banter that so often accompanied her little group before another mission. She understood they did it to relieve stress, it was some little thing they could control, another distraction to keep them from going mad with worry. But could not allow herself that release. For one, she was already undead, there was precious little that could actually get worse about her condition. Second, that also meant it was still possible to keep the others safe, bar them from falling into anything similar to predicament she was in. That in itself was going to be difficult. From the way Sharza had explained it, she was asking them to walk into a city turned into a cesspool of squalor and disease.

And yet, there was no other choice. She could have gone herself of course but if she died then the mage of Peryite would go free and the problem would not be solved. In fact, deduct any one of their members and she felt their overall odds of survival would plummet. That was not a risk she was willing to take, even if she did consider permanent death just as good as a cure in her case. They were going to do this right and get it finished if not for herself but for the good of Tamriel.

From the safety of the far side of the tower, she watched the sun beginning to start it descending arc from the top of the sky. On the next evening she and the team she had resurrected would be striking out in that direction armed only with the knowledge that their target was possibly there and the full certainty that there would be a disease involved. Claudia felt somewhere in the cold dead space that should have been her heart a sense of shame. How could she do this? How could she ask her friends to sacrifice their safety, time and quite possibly their lives to do this? Was she being selfish?

The vampire shook her head and realized that maybe it was a little too late to be asking such questions. She was also certain that if she struck off on her own right now the three would most certainly head out and track her down, following right behind her regardless. Even if she changed her mind and decided to go off on her own at this point there was no way they would allow it. The archer should have thought of this before she even showed up.  
>She wondered if their journey would end somewhere out there where the sun met the earth.<p>

Amazingly little was said the next day. Whatever communication was done, it was all that was necessary to finalize supplies and where everything should go. Instructions were given to Muraat and Sylva on how to run the tower while the rest of them were gone for hopefully would be a short time. A few spare doses were kept around for Zelphia while Claudia understood that she would need surviving off the few that would go with her, namely Sibylla, Do'Ravier, Bann-Je and Sharza. The thief was needed as a guide so they could make their way to the city. The rest were all there just so that this next chapter would be closed.  
>The hours just before departure are always the hardest. There is nothing that can be done yet but anticipation is hardly a meal that settles well or goes down easy. Whatever prayers they said were in silence, private and personal. Whatever thoughts they had, they went unsaid. Each of them may have muttered encouraging things to each other but it was all about making those comforting, familiar noises. At the end of the day they would be willingly walking back into danger yet again.<p>

Sibylla was fastening the straps that held all the equipment to Karl just outside the tower. All their food, water and tent supplies would be carried by the aloof beast. No one would have the luxury of riding him but there was hardly any chance of five people taking a lift on the animal, much less with their weapons and armor. It was then, out of the blue, they spotted Claudia stepping out into the growing shadows of the dusk. She had followed up on Zelphia's suggestion and slept during the day. She seemed well rested, just like someone is fully roused from a good night's rest.

"Are you ready?" Claudia asked quietly, her blue eyes glowing from under her orange hood.

"Yes." SIbylla replied, giving Carl a reassuring pat.

"Good. The others are ready as well." the vampire said as Do'Ravier, Bann-Je and Sharza shuffled outside and onto the sands.

There was a small breeze that sang in the air that night in the Alik'r. The two moons were soft orbs overhead bathing the dust in a white glow. Claudia almost felt that they were going on a simple journey rather than a mission, a journey whose destination remained undecided. She almost wished they could just do that; simply leave and go someplace where all of these troubles would be forgotten. Alas, she knew that would not be the right thing to do. Only the foolish ran from their problems for long.

The group shared glances for a moment, asking each other silently if they were committed, if they were ready to head out on this. Each set of eyes shone like jewels though those that belonged to Argonian and Khajiits were brighter. Claudia's azure eyes burned with an unearthly glow. Their arms and armor also reflected the moon, an eerie, almost deceptive condition considering that very soon they would certainly be splattered in blood and gore.

"Sharza, show us the way." Claudia ordered, no longer comfortable standing around and waiting for something to happen. Without a word Sharza nodded and began walking confidently off into the west. The others followed right behind her.

Before they knew it, an hour or two had melted away. The tower had become a forgotten speck unable to be seen through the veil of the distant dark. Sharza continued in an unwavering, confident line. Sibylla had her compass out just to ensure they were keeping course but it was all irrelevant since the Khajiiti thief seemed to have been gifted with a natural directional system that was not fooled no matter how many dunes they shuffled over or walked around.

"Tell me," Do'Ravier announced with a yawn. "Why did we choose to journey at night again?"

"Because someone in our company takes an extreme aversion to the daylight." Sibylla chuckled.

"I assume she'll be needing to hide under the tent during the day, yes?"

"I suppose that's how it works." Sibylla admitted, casting a glance at Claudia who simply nodded.

"How polite of us." Do'Ravier muttered.

They trekked for as long as they could. In some ways, the night and the stars were soothing even if most of them felt the fatigue of being up at an hour they were used to being asleep. Do'Ravier kept his eyes on the stars, considering each constellation to keep himself preoccupied. Bann-Je idly let his tongue flick in and out. He was amazed at the plethora of different scents to be tasted, even this far out in the desert. Sadly, he was not sure of what the vast majority signified. Sharza just kept her mind of the goal. She wanted to have it solved and then be done with it. She might have been a thief but she liked to think of herself as a thief with a heart of gold. (Which she might have stolen.) Sibylla was simply reassured by the beat of her heart and the rush of blood within herself. It reminded her that she was alive.

Sharza was still happily leading the way when she was told to stop. Looking around, she noticed Claudia beginning to fumble through the supplies that held the tenting to Karl.

"Why are we stopping?" Sibylla asked.

"You can't feel it like I can but it's almost dawn." Claudia replied tersely, falling backwards when she pulled the fabric too hard.

"Really? Time sure flew." Do'Ravier yawned.

"Now could you all please help me set this up?" the vampire snapped.

"What's your problem? No need to get all nasty about it." Sibylla scolded.

"You would be a little tense too if you'd turn into a cloud of ash when the sun comes up."

"Oh. Right." Sibylla sputtered, realization hitting her. The group promptly got to helping Claudia at least get a peace of mind that she'd live to see another sunset.

Claudia had long since double checked and triple checked to make sure every part of the tent was secure by the time the first rays of the sun began to rise behind them. At this point it was just a matter of sleeping the day away. Nonetheless, between old habits and the threat of bedouins and more possible slugs, it was decided that they would have to post sentries and schedule out sleeping arrangements. Do'Ravier and Sibylla drew the short straws.

Admittedly, it was not easy to doze off in the shearing heat even in the early Alik'r sun. The Nord and Khajiit were beginning to think that perhaps it was for the best that they had the morning shift. The heat would only become more painful as the sun rose higher in the sky. Deep in thought, Do'Ravier realized too late that it would irrelevant to have a sentry during the peak of the day. Not even the bedouins launched attacks when the sun was at its zenith. Then, with a little dread, he remembered that the undead and the warped generally are not bothered by such petty things as intolerable heat.

The morning passed without incident though both sentries were very weary and generally frayed from the experience of standing out in the sun just outside the tent. Already their eyes had become bloodshot from the heat. They were being replaced by Bann-Je and Sharza.

"Do'Ravier would suggest remaining within the tent so not to be scorched by overhead sun." the battlemage mumbled to Sharza and they traded spots.

"That would be nice." Sharza agreed, certainly not wishing to leave the safety of the tent. They belatedly noticed that Claudia had positioned herself just off from the center of the tent. In doing so, she made sure she could safely rest without risking the possibility of someone exposing her to the sunlight when they opened the tent. It was only three days into her undead life and she seemed to be showing a knack for it. Then again,the vampire's form of sunburn is a little more catastrophic compared to that which afflicts other races. A perfect example would be the ochre color that bloomed on Sibylla's face from her watch.

"That will burn. And peel. Make sure to wash thoroughly." Bann-Je noted as she walked past him. She only grunted at him, not finding his observation any helpful to her current discomfort.

Sibylla had just collapsed and turned her head ever so carefully on the roll of fabric she was using as a pillow when she noticed Claudia stir. Since she knew this would be akin to anyone else waking up in the middle of the night, she wondered if maybe all of this activity had accidentally woken her. Taking care not to disturb her painfully tender skin, she was about to tell Claudia to go back to sleep when the vampire hissed at them.

"What is that?"

"What is what?' Do'Ravier inquired. Bann-Je flicked his tongue with an audible snap before looking out to the west, incidentally the same direction Claudia was peering at.

"Something...rotting." the Argonian announced.

In the distance they spotting a large, ungainly figure rise over the dune. Aside from the fact that Claudia and Bann-Je had sniffed it out already, they could tell that their interloper had no sense of stealth whatsoever. The only time the bedouins charged over a dune, and in so doing exposed their outline, was when their action was already committed.

"Move, Sharza." Claudia snapped, an arrow already drawn into her bow. She already had enough to concentrate on, crouched low, the bow angled so not to get tangled with anything inside the tent while close enough to her eye so she could aim. This was not one of the better conditions for shooting an arrow.

"Are we sure that thing is dangerous?" Do'Ravier asked, ears full erect and alert on his head, as best as his partially paralyzed one would allow.

"Something is wrong, I can tell." Claudia grumbled, letting the arrow fly and allow the string to sing a single harsh note within the tent.

The sharpened projectile struck the target square in its forehead. There was a sickening thud of the steel stopping at the back of the skull before the hapless victim collapsed to the ground. For a moment, no one even dared to breathe.

"Do'Ravier, Bann-Je, go check it out." Claudia ordered. The two promptly, if cautiously, moved forward to do as they were told.  
>The three in the tent watched in earnest as the two made a closer inspection. Eventually, Bann-Je cautiously and slowly moved his head above the peak of the dune to keep a lookout as Do'Ravier began to analyze what Claudia had downed.<p>

"This must not be so straightforward. They're still inspecting it." Sibylla speculated.

"I knew something was wrong." Claudia murmured.

When they returned Bann-Je was flicking his tongue rapidly as if trying to catalogue whatever scent he had caught up there. Ominously, Do'Ravier seemed to be in a state of shock as if he still refused to believe what he had seen up there. Sibylla had to ask first.

"What is it?"

The Khajiit shook his head first before answering. "It's corpus."

"What?" Claudia demanded.

"Exactly. It's an ancient disease but it died out about three centuries ago in Morrowind. The only reason I'm sure it's corpus is because the description fits. Massive, unnatural growth to the body and muscles, hindered reasoning ability, and I'm going to guess unreasonable hostility; just a hunch."

"But you said it died out and that it was only in Morrowind." Sibylla interjected.

"Which is why I don't understand what it's here but I don't know of any other disease that could do what happened to the poor soul up there." the battlemage flicked his spear in the general direction of the corpse.

"...Perhaps it came back when the volcano erupted?" Bann-Je offered.

"Then what is it doing here? It's unlikely because the disease was connected to Dagoth Ur who the Neravarine struck down. And the Neravarine was the only person to survive Corpus himself." Do'Ravier explained.

"...Diseases have been the common factor so far throughout this whole journey. We're on the right track. It just means the stakes have been raised. Is there any cure for Corpus?" Claudia asked.

"Haha. No."

* * *

><p>The orange of the dusk had scarcely been a passing memory when they struck out again. The party gave a wide berth around the malformed and grotesque body of the corpus victim as they left the site. Sharza continued to lead them but this time her body language suggested she was getting nervous, a stark contrast to her usual plucky self. They were getting close, it did not even have to be stated.<p>

The sands were just the drops of water on some hostile sea, one they could walk, but a harsh ocean nonetheless. This time the moon had trouble piercing a veil of clouds overhead. At least the sands beneath them seemed to be grains of silver. Alas, they knew they would not be walking upon a destiny of treasure.  
>Abruptly, Sharza hunched down and the rest followed. Sibylla even left Karl unguided and followed in their example. Motioning for them to be careful, she guided them to the top of the dune where they all peered over so each could see with their own eyes.<p>

Under any other circumstances, the site she showed them would have been a marvelous view. Like some beacon of hope in the middle of the desolate sands, a once magnificent city lay like a dusty but nonetheless brilliant jewel in the middle of a forgotten castle. Everything seemed to be made of stone, much of it worn down and turned rough by the years of being ground down by the blowing sand. The large complex was enveloped by a thick stone wall while the tiles, statues, streets and plazas, while showing their age by the thick deposits of sand, were in relatively good condition. T

"How old is this city?" Sibylla asked.

"Rumors say that whoever lived here dwelt alongside the Dwemer." Sharza explained.

"I'd believe it." Do'Ravier said with a nod.

"Yes. Sharza only cares that it might hold treasure, especially within that main building there towards the back walls." Sharza pointed out for all of them. There was indeed a clear road leading from the main gate facing them and running through the city like a main artery. It ended at a complex that seemed to be built into the city's gates, a large and foreboding gate preventing any from entering the building.

"Is that a temple or a palance of some sort?" Sibylla inquired.

"Doesn't matter. I can hear the heartbeats of all within there. Only one beats like its bearer is devoid of disease. I'm certain it's our mage; the one named Furaldur." Claudia murmured, burning blue eyes narrowing in the dark.

"How many heart beats are down there?" Bann-Je inquired, wanting to get to the more pressing matters of potential dangers.

"More than I can count. It will be dangerous to go in there." Claudia replied.

"Is there no other way to get there?" Sibylla offered.

"There is none. Sharza sniffed the place out before. That is the only way in."

"We don't have siege equipment so if that's our only option, we're going to have to plow our way in." Do'Ravier murmured, no liking their only option.

"I say we fight our way through and then close the door behind us and lock it. That way we don't find ourselves surrounded. We take on one hurdle at a time." the Nord suggested.

"That doesn't sound good. What else is new? We can handle it." Bann-Je conceded.

"Well then, we better get ready. I'd like this to be over with before the sun comes up." Claudia announced.

The plan was simple. Karl would have to wait by himself hidden behind a dune. The front gate was left half raised for some inexplicable reason but so long as it was not an obstacle it was quickly overlooked. The group would move as quickly, if stealthily, as possible up to the main gate before scurrying as fast as they could towards the building door that they wanted to reach. If anything got in their way it would have to be fought down. Claudia hoped that they would never lose momentum. To get caught out in the main straight where all the other alleys and roads branched off into dark and gloomy residences, and where Divines knew what was lurking in there, would only lead them all into an early grave.

The hearts thumped in their throats, save for the vampire's, the closer they got to the gates. All eyes were on Sharza who was still leading the way. All of them were wondering where all the foul creatures the thief had mention went off too. Claudia had informed them that they had heartbeats of some sort but like the corpus beast rotting several dunes away, there was something "wrong" with them. The moment they crossed the threshold of the gate and all of them felt adrenaline coursing through their veins at an accelerated rate. Where were the corrupted denizens of this city?

"We should stick to the shadows." Sharza suggested hurriedly soon after they entered through the gates.

"No. Do not do that." Bann-Je interjected quickly, all of them still moving as fast as they dared without causing too much noise.

"Why not?" Claudia demanded.

"Normally I would agree but..." the Argonian flicked his tongue again before his eyes narrowed. "You might get pulled in and never return. Beware, they come." and with that, the Argonian became opaque and practically disappeared before their eyes.

"Get ready." Claudia hissed as ghostly chills ran down their spines. They did not have to wait for long.

The first couple of lumbering shadows scarcely emerged from the nearby streets before Claudia sent arrows in their direction. Her abilities now preternaturally empowered by her vampiric senses, she was hitting her targets with remarkable efficiency and lethality. However, for all her deadly speed, she could not keep up with all of them. Lightning bolts began to arc through the air as Do'Ravier joined in. The problem was immediately transparent; their attackers were much too big and hardy, their muscles overgrown and bursting the skin they wore.

"Sibylla, we're take down any that show up front, you try to keep them off our rear." Claudia told the Nord. The warrior simply nodded her helmet, keeping her shield raised and ax ready. Quietly, she smirked behind the metal casing. It was both disturbing and amusing watching the shambling corpus beasts trying to chase them only to have their limbs go flying off due to some unseen force. Bann-Je's work was always impressive.

"Divines above, how long does this road go?" Do'Ravier snapped, starting to feel his magical energies being taxed to their limits.

"We're not even halfway there!" Sharza blurted.

Growling, Do'Ravier downed a flask before readying his spear. He dared not use another elixir when they had only just started. At this point, they were going to have to depend on Claudia's archery skills while he did his best to keep any other attackers off with his polearm.

They jumped when they heard Sibylla's shield clang against something hard.

"Sorry, Bann-Je let a beastie get too close." the Nord reported, pieces of flesh and ichor dripping from her shield and ax. The Nord turned around again, their sentinel against anything that would threaten them Through her visor, she noticed thin shapes starting to form in the sky. Her stomach dropped.

"Do'Ravier!"

"What?"

"We have arrows! Some of them are shooting at us!"

With a start the Khajiit turned around, his paws raised. The angry shards that were descending upon them subtly changed their directions and cascaded off to their flanks. Growing with the knowledge that it was unlikely they would be getting any respite, the Khajiit turned to Sharza.

"Are your telekinetics any good?"

"No and look at the gate ahead; it is glowing. Sharza is certain it is a warding spell preventing any from entering. She will have to dispel it."

Do'Ravier growled before coming to a conclusion. "Keep your heads down from now on."

"We're almost there, just hold on!" Claudia called. She took some relief knowing that there were no more enemies ahead of them, only the door keeping them from their objective. Unfortunately, there was now the multitude of enemies behind them. She got to work returning her own arrows at them.

"Are Corpus victims usually this aggressive and unrelenting?" Claudia asked their battle mage, observing that sometimes despite Bann-Je stealthily taking off limbs some of the tougher brutes continued moving towards them until the took a fatal wound.

"I am led to believe that from the books but I don't understand how some of them are shooting arrows at us. They're suppose to lose their sanity and faculties, not keep some of their skills." Do'Ravier grumbled in dismay.

Their enemies must have been former bedouins seeking refuge in or around the ruins. Most of them still had their dark and billowing desert robes but all of them were in a sorry state. It was clear that whatever hold they had on sanity had long since gone, the ravages and agony of the disease having long since parted them with their souls. Their flesh had turned into a putrefying color while their muscle and bone had grown out of proportion and became disjointed, cracked open, cancerous and rotting. Whatever remnant of a person that remained behind those feverish eyes, they had all been reduced to mindless beasts, the spirit having long since left Nirn.

"We're there! Just let Sharza do her work!" the Khajiit announced, wasting no time trying to discern the manner of spell barring their path. The fur on her paws stood on end. There was a strange and very dangerous enchantment on the door. She would have to be careful.

"Hurry, Sharza!" Do'Ravier hollered, driving his spear into the head of a rushing corpus stalker.

"Please wait, this is dangerous!" the thief retorted.

The group continued holding the line but they could tell the noose was tightening around them. Bann-Je's opaque outline, once invisible in the gloom, was now become easily visible as he weaved and danced his way through the murderous crowd. His ethereal blades would snap into existence, slice off a head or limb, and then dissipate just as quickly as it appeared. He moved too quick to be caught but the press of the mob was beginning to bear on him and eventually it would become impossible move through them. Determined, he feverishly continued dicing, trying to keep the worse of the numbers off the forlorn group in front of the door.

Sibylla quickly found her niche alongside Do'Ravier who was now only sparingly firing off bolts of lightning. The battlemage preferring to use his spear at the moment, Sibylla added her powerful ax blows where the Khajiit could not promptly execute a target. When the arrows would rise overhead it was only her quick instincts with the shield that protected them and Sharza. Claudia, her senses alert to a degree that no human could hope to have, was sending her arrows on dreadful flights that usually ended up as fatal to the target no matter how hardy their constitution was. However, for all their skill and ability to work together, they were going to be overwhelmed by the raw numbers.

"I got it!" Sharza shouted with relief. The solid door recoiled up like a gate allowing them to enter.

Without a word, the group retreated as a unit behind the threshold of the door. Claudia shouted outloud and Bann-Je emerged from the mob dashing past them with a flip and hurrying on the tail end of his comrades.

"Throw that locking mechanism!" Claudia shouted as soon as they entered, still letting arrows fly. Sibylla and Bann-Je immediately went for it while Do'Ravier hurried an exhausted Sharza to safety. It was in that moment that he felt something went splatter on his face.

It all happened in a moment. Sharza was suddenly on the ground with a thud. The battlemage continued to pull her away from the door into perceived safety, only vaguely registering the feathered arrow sticking out of her back. He heard her whimpering as he continued to drag her along.

"It...hurts...It hurts so much..."

Do'Ravier began to panic when he noticed the location of where the arrow landed. Apparently, the demons not only could take a lot of abuse, they could launch an arrow at such force it could impale a human straight through the chest. No sooner had he brought her behind a wall did he started to channel all the healing energy he had into knitting her flesh.

"Sharza, hold on! Just hold on, Do'Ravier can still-"

"...Sharza will tell her little sister you sent your love..." the thief breathed.

"Hold on!"

"...Sharza can't...it's getting...dark..."

"Do'Ravier cannot fail your family again...he already lost your sister and couldn't do anything!"

"...You...were always very good...Sharza was happy to know you..."

"You're not going yet!"

"Please...don't be angry with Sharza..."

"Do'Ravier never was, do you hear me?" the battlemage protested.

"It's not...so scary anymore..." the thief sighed before falling silent.

Blue light flashed and jolted along the walls but Sharza did not stir. Sibylla bit her lips and knew that no matter how skilled the healer, an arrow through a person's heart was something no one could come back from. Do'Ravier growled through tears as the energy flowing from his paws came to a halt. Claudia promptly slapped his paws as he reached for another elixir.

"It's over." the vampire told him.

The Khajiit glared at her but knew there was no point in arguing. He fidgeted for a bit but finally sighed, trying to decide what to do next. Gently, he touched the head of his departed friend.

They took a minute to catch their breaths as Do'Ravier carefully placed the body in a sheltered place and crossed her hands across her chest. That finished, he gathered his spear and walked up ahead.

"Are we ready? I want to finish this now."

Claudia nodded at him and stepped in front of him, taking the role of leading the way.

"I've been wanting to finish this for years now." before leading them into the gloom.


	36. Chapter 36

"_You know what is right. Go and do it. At times it is not enough to look for good in the world. Sometimes you need to put good in it."_

- Archon Tactius, his final sermon

* * *

><p>Despite initially pressing a few feet into the building, the group found themselves taking another rest around the bend leading to a spirally ascending staircase. Perhaps it was too much to be around Sharza's remains or perhaps they did not realize just how exhausted they were. It did not matter, they needed to take another moment to catch their breath and did so with a command from Claudia. A dark, somber silence overtook them punctured only by the light of the narrow window nearby.<p>

Each were marred and sweating and their muscles ached. Sibylla passed around a large canteen of water from which everyone drank desperately. Do'Ravier seemed to be sulking away from the others but also made it clear he did not want to be disturbed. Bann-Je sat on a nearby stone bench but not before brushing off the spot he wanted three time.

Claudia wondered how they got here. The simple answer was because despite no longer being part of the Vigilant of Stendarr or the Inquisition, it was still the right thing to stop this rogue mage. The vampire was not in the mood for simple answers. She remembered the time when she slipped in between life and death and was confronted by Arkay. The Divine urged her to think deeper, to go back further than the simple answer of how she got here. She realized she was not the only one here. She had dragged four others; three now. Sharza's death weighed on her but now was not the time to mourn her. They had to finish this. Yet, Claudia could not help but ask why did she take these three with her?

There was the practical reason. She never would have gotten this far without them. Bann-Je was crazy, Sibylla was belligerent and Do'Ravier was both liable to complain and be unstable but despite all that she could not question their loyalty. Why they stuck by her, she could not know. What she know was how they all met.

Being the daughter of a noble family, and all the education that went with it, brought her a long way when she surrendered her social status into a type of exile with the Imperial Cult. When the priests found out that she was good with a bow and rapier it was only logical that they offer her the opportunity to serve as one of the Vigilant of Stendarr. She went through the basic training and did a few months of running missions with some of the veteran members of the order. Everyone that worked with her knew that her talents would be wasted if she was not quickly made into a team leader. All that was needed was for her to be given a team.

Claudia was good at what she did and the order agreed she needed a team of equally talented individuals. The new leader was sent to High Rock where she would meet the rest of her team, all of them having been gathered and assigned to her from the various departments of the order. She had read the reports, all of them told of their prowess on the field and there were only small scribbled warnings regarding their "eccentricities." Claudia lived to regret not paying careful attention to those fine print warnings.

She first met the Archon the Cathedral, Tacitus, who had requested an expert team of Vigilantes to help manage the area. It was over the next few days that the rest of her team filed into the building. First was Sibylla who came from Skyrim, all haughty with martial pride and never too far from a tankard of mead. Next was Do'Ravier shuffling in with boxes of books and a little too much energy. Finally, Bann-Je walked into the cathedral door...and repeated it two more times.

Their first few missions nearly had them all killed, not by the enemy, but by each other. Bann-Je would shroud himself only to prevent Do'Ravier and Claudia from launching arrows and spells who refused to take the chance of friendly fire. This did not deter Sibylla who was too used to working by herself and at one point the two even tripped over each other. At another point Sibylla nearly brained Claudia on a backswing while the Nord did get a nasty shock during a chain arc from Do'Ravier's lightning spells.

After the third near accident, Bann-Je almost swallowing one of Claudia's arrows while Sibylla shaved off Do'Ravier's left whiskers, Claudia decided that enough was enough. She marched the group out into the cathedral's courtyard and they had a good long talk about their strategies. Each explained how they understood battle, how they operated and what they expected the others to do. Claudia ended it with a simple admonition.

"All of us, we need to talk to each other. I expect you all to keep me informed on what you do. I want to help you all. But you all need to help me too. That is all, dismissed." Claudia told them before leaving the courtyard. She wondered if that one statement had made all the difference. That was how they all started talking to each other on more than just a professional basis.

And now they were carrying her on when she knew she could not have done this alone.

"We've made it this far. We can't do anything for Sharza, not yet at least. Lets finish this and put it all to rest." Sibylla insisted, needing to say something to break the silence.

"Yes, I agree," Claudia replied, standing to her full height before walking in front of them.

"And this time, I'll lead from the front."

"You're not exactly the most heavily armored one here, Claudia. Are you sure you don't-"

"I'll be fine, Sibylla. I can sense things you can't." the vampire insisted.

"Well...if you say so." the Nord relented hesitantly.

Claudia watched them slowly gather themselves up before mentally and physically bracing themselves. This was going to be their final push and after such an incident that happened just a few moments ago, it was natural for even the most veteran fighter to become unnerved. However, Claudia knew she could not let them lose momentum. They had to finish this.

"Are you going to be all right, Do'Ravier?" Sibylla asked quietly.

"Do'Ravier will feel much better when justice is served." the Khajiit replied darkly.

"Well then, I suppose we shouldn't wait." Sibylla replied.

"If all else fails, gravity is an unstoppable force." Bann-Je muttered to himself quietly. His remark was overlooked.

"Lets go." Claudia urged.

The walls that enclosed around them may not have been foreboding in a brighter day with their artistic designs and the relief of faces gazing back at them like ancestors from ages past. The stone the building was made of was grainy but not excessively rough to the touch. But with the knowledge that something dark and twisted lurked within the halls turned the statues into silent hostages, a thousand faces that may have well have been effigies to the lives lost to the madness within. Perhaps it was just the weight of the situation weighing on their minds, but each of the Vigilants felt their condemning gaze upon them. Claudia hurried them further up the stairs.

The group stopped at a closed door and took a moment to form up. Claudia stepped first, bow drawn and ready to be loosed while Sibylla fell in behind her. Next was Do'Ravier who clutched his spear firmly while Bann-Je brought up the rear. All four of them shared a final glance before nodding. Without a word, Claudia kicked the door open and they rushed inside, blood rushing, weapons drawn and reflexes ready to spring. They were not prepared for what they saw within.

To Claudia and Sibylla, it was eerily similar to what they saw in the hotel back in Sentinel. If flesh and muscle were plaster and fresco, then the room before them would have been a gallery dedicated to the magnum opus of a master sculptor. It a previous life it may have served as a simple landing or living area but now it had been turned into something far more sinister. It was if an artist had gone into the room and crafted a lifelike scene of rocks, trees and a meadow, right down to the individual blades of ankle high grass, within the room. Climbing vines snaked around the room and up the walls while blooming flowers the size of large hands erupted from various places within the scene. It all may have been very pretty if it weren't for the fact that all of it was in colors of pink, red and ghastly white while having that all too familiar texture and appearance of exposed muscle and flesh.

"Keep sharp, there might be a demon lurking in here." Claudia warned, eyes piercing through the fleshscape.

"Clearly." Do'Ravier sputtered, engross at what he saw.

"No, not Furaldur. Some horrid abomination attacked us in the hotel when it looked like this." the vampire clarified.

"This is...disgusting. So much that would have to be cleaned!" Bann-Je exclaimed in horror.

"Just stay focus and we can put this bastard down." Sibylla reminded them.

"It is funny that you should use those terms, Nord." a voice spoke out to them.

They all jumped, weapons raised and limbs ready to attack. Their eyes searched frantically for the intruder but all they saw was just more of the artistic slaughterhouse they were in.

"Show yourself!" Claudia demanded.

One of the veiny, fleshy vines from the walls slowly uncoiled itself and gently snaked its way towards them. Its movements did not suggest any overt hostility so the group let it approach albeit with all their weapons pointed at it. The tendril delicately raised a lily made of tongues and buds of skin. The grotesque flower spoke to them.

"You think I am the evil one? All you simpletons ever do is destroy and sabotage. I am the true progressive here, I am the one that is trying to set things right." the flower declared.

"...You...Furaldur! That's you speaking!." Claudia snapped, recognizing the voice.

"It has been over a year, Imperial. Alas, I do not remember your name. Hmm, and what is this? Have you fallen victim to vampirism? And your comrades allow you to walk among them? I did not think that was allowed for Vigilants."

"That is none of your concern. Where are you hiding?"

"And I must say that is none of your concern. I fear that you all don't see the beauty of what you are walking in and I cannot allow you to destroy that. You do not see the worth of this despite it being before your very eyes." the flower cooed, the vine lovingly caressing the layer of mucus under it. Bann-Je nearly shuddered in disgust.

"There is no beauty in this!" Sibylla sneered.

"That is where you are wrong. Look at it! Truly look at it!" Furaldur insisted. No one did anything except continuing to stare at the flower. The arrangement of petals closed momentarily before opening with a exasperated sigh. The daedric priest continued.

"The flesh is still living, the blood still flows. Against all odds, despite disease, despite wounds, despite trauma, it yet lives and operates!"

"This is an abomination." Bann-Je growled.

"Oh?" the flower menacingly turned in his direction. "And when was the last time your brought something back to life rather than killing it, assassin?"

"I at least gave the mercy of a clean death." Bann-Je grumbled.

"And then it dies, decays and it can't come back. I'm working on giving the gift of life. Continual life. Life that doesn't die." Furaldur retorted.

"All things must come to an end. Death is still very much a part of life. Only the foolish do not prepare for it." Do'Ravier argued.

"Ah, yes. The typical priestly response. You never once thought of the cruelty of Arkay, forcing you to accept an ending to all things rather than trying to fight it? Answer me, mage. You have watched friends die and what did you do? Nothing! You probably said a few pretty words but you must not have cared for them that much if you just decided to leave their bodies to rot. Meanwhile I'm trying to fight the very evil that you let swallow your friends. From where I stand, you seem to be the foolish, perhaps even apathetic, one here." Furaldur judged. Do'Ravier bared his teeth and growled angrily.

"Enough! We have to end this, where are you?" Claudia demanded. The vampire focused her senses. For the first time she realized why it was suddenly hard to detect his heartbeat. It seemed like the whole room was just one heavily pulsating organ that drowned out her heightened hearing. She could barely even make out those of her teammates right next to her. She strained her hearing, he had to be...

"He's upstairs." Claudia announced.

The four moved through the fleshcape hurrying to get to the door at the end. They were nearly upon it when they promptly found themselves face first on the floor. Gagging and hauling themselves off of the sticky, slimy surface, they realized what the problem was. The vein vines had curled fast around their ankles. In the center of the room, a gaping maw lined with dagger like teeth formed, opening like a whirlpool emerging from a still lake.

"I would be sorry to kill you all here but I hardly can allow you to stop me from completing my goal. Besides, your deaths, while regrettable, will only help me find the answer. Who knows? Maybe if you're lucky, your life essences will live on in this wondrous creation." Furaldur's voice spoke from one of the vines began dragging them closer to the maw.

"He can go rot in Oblivion if he thinks I'm going to let myself get eaten!" Sibylla shouted, flailing her ax on the vine around her ankle, oblivious to how close she was getting to the maw. She probably would have been swallowed if Bann-Je hadn't caught her around the waist while Claudia held onto his ankle. The vampire in turn was being clutched by Do'Ravier who had anchored himself with his spear stuck to the floor.

"We have to do something, quick!" Claudia cried. Do'Ravier let out a pained groan.

"Hold tight...and brace yourself. This is going to hurt."

"Do'Ravier, what are you going to do?" Claudia demanded forcefully.

"Did you ever wonder what a bolt of lightning feels like?"

"No, and what does that have to do with-No!"

Under normal circumstances a lightning spell would not affect the caster. Unfortunately, they were standing within the very target of their wrath. There was no way they could avoid feeling the electric shock too and what a very painful sensation it was. When Claudia opened her eyes and felt control returning to her muscles, she could see that much of the fleshy contortions of the creature they were standing on had twisted and writhed into painful positions. Essentially, all what Do'Ravier had done was restart the whole struggle. They were no further in their endeavor of trying to escape. However, just as importantly, they had not gone further backwards either. Belatedly, they noticed that Sibylla, in her painful spasms, had chopped the vine that bound them. Bann-Je was the first to react.

The spastic lizard contorted his whole body, wrenching himself free of Claudia's grasp. In one fluid motion, he hurled Sibylla as far as he could towards the door while doubling back to shove Claudia and Do'Ravier in the same direction. It was not graceful or painless but only his quick reactions allowed them to get a head start before the creature could fully understand what had just happened.

"It's locked and barred!" Sibylla cried, trying to force open the door.

"Hack through it! We'll buy you time!" Claudia shouted, launching an arrow into the maw at the center of the beast for whatever good it did. Do'Ravier conjured as many fireballs as he could while Bann-Je hacked at the smaller tendrils wiggling up to vampire could hear the creature's pulse begin to grow in strength. They had successfully aggravated it and she could see more of the veiny cords starting to snake towards them from the undergrowth of skin spines.

"Sibylla, hurry!"

The Nord splintered and crushed her way through the door, the others not even needing to be told as they rushed in right behind her. Reforming for a moment in the hallway, they were not even allowed to catch their breath since they could feel the viney fingers of the creature still creeping up on their heels. Turning, Do'Ravier poured another cascade of fire from his paws, halting the abomination in a limbo state upon the ascending stairwell.

"It's going to keep following us." Bann-Je noted grimly.

"We don't have time to play with this thing, the mage might get away again." Claudia growled in frustration. Sibylla thought for a moment before stepping in to cover Do'Ravier when he needed to take a moment. Bashing away an intrusive, probing muscular coil, the Nord stomped at the smaller fingers underfoot before arriving to a conclusion.

"We'll have to hold it back. Claudia, you need to go up there and end it yourself."

"Is that a good idea?" Do'Ravier asked, popping the muscles on his neck with a flex as he waited for his turn.

"Do you see another options, cat?" Sibylla chided.

"Hmmm. No." the battlemage conceded before sending a crackling jolt of lightning into their adversary.

Claudia felt cold with quiet dread. Considering that blood no longer ran warm through her, this was an odd sensation, more realizing her current state than a change from the norm. She wondered if her friends were sacrificing themselves in this act. Unless they were able to uncover some hidden weakness in the creature it looked like they would either get bogged down in a standstill at best or slowly if inevitably give up ground as it won a grinding battle of attrition. The vampire knew she did not have a lot of time.

"I will hurry." Claudia agreed and began to rush up the stairs.

The Imperial wondered why it seemed she was becoming so prone to reflection as of late. Perhaps it had something to do with her recent turning to an undead creature. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was on the cusp of something far larger than she could imagine. Alas, her feet did not give her mind much time for its pursuits nor did her hands allow her time to pause. More mechanically than thoughtfully she flung up the door that was barring her way. She stopped dead at what she saw.

Furaldur, still easily recognized after all this time, had painted intricate, staggering runes on the entire span of the tower floor. The lines and symbols all interconnected and they were done in an eerie red ink, one whose origin she wondered about. In the very center of it all was a glowing crystal orb.

Under normal circumstances this would have been no different to any other daedric summoning she and her team had barged into. They were always eerie, jarring and it was a pleasure to quickly disperse them all because something about these rituals unnerved her no matter how many times she saw them. But this was one ritual she knew she would never forget and one that forced her to stop and gape in awe. Before Furaldur in a ghostly, billowing form was a pale rat. Both the mage and the vision he had conjured were immediately by a window that illuminated the whole of the bare room.

The ghost was larger than most rats she had seen but it was not enormous either. The Imperial was more struck by how unworldy it was rather than anything else. Even more perplexing was the fact that Furaldur seemed to be angrily talking to it. The rodent's ghostly, beady eyes stared up at the mage in apparent annoyance.

"What more do you need from me? I have turned hundreds, maybe thousands, for you! Not even the undead were safe from me because I infected vampires with your gifts! What more do I need to do before you grant me my wish?" Furaldur shouted angrily.

"What more gifts do you want? You've been left untouched by my plagues when by all accounts you should have fallen to them, you have been my herald and enjoyed a touch of my power. I have shown you the gift of Corpus, a rarity that has not been seen in Tamriel for such a long time. You have been given enough gifts in return for your service." the rat replied somehow; Claudia did not see it move its snout.

"But that is not what I asked!"

"Do you know what you are asking of me? Do not think yourself smarter than me, mortal, I know your intents. You want to prove your superiority over your peers, you want to show the curs in the Imperial Cult that they are wrong and you are right. And how do you intend to do that? You want to fashion my gifts to your purposes. You want to bring life out of disease."

"Fine!" Furaldur snapped, throwing his fists into the air with rage. "So what if that was my goal? I laughed with scorn at all those helpless fools who felt the touch of your gifts that I gave them, begging, pleading for a cure. It was all funny and disrespectful because those diseases were not meant to be a problem, they were meant to be a cure, a cure from death! Maybe a painful existence, but I find it less hypocritical than the Imperial Cult's acceptance of death and willingness to let lives rot away."

"I care not for your opinions. You have Corpus. Either change them under your own powers if you are so wise or continue in my service quietly." the rat snapped. It was then that Claudia realized that the rat was in fact an avatar of Peryite.

"Wouldn't this glorify you? A world where life is continued by disease? Where Corpus doesn't debilitate? Wouldn't all know of your power if you would just accept my petition?" Furaldur argued furiously.

"Do not presume to know above your station, mortal!" Peryite spat. Claudia started to wonder if all the Daedra were like this.

Furaldur jumped when a booming, malevolent laughter washed over the room like a peal of thunder. If the avatar of Peryite made an reaction, it only seemed to be an exasperated shaking of its head. In the distorted plane that seemed to be the medium for Peryite to reveal himself, a hulking, scaly figure with horns emerged from the gloom. Claudia immediately recognized it at the form of Molag Bal. The brute was easily recognize by his muscular, reptilian form, snout full of dagger like teeth and gnarled horns that curled from his head. The avatar stood a head taller than Furaldur and was as wide as a bull.

"Fools, both of you!" the hideous demonic lord roared and sniggered.

"Molag, stay out of this." Peryite scolded.

"So easily manipulated, lesser daedra and mortals alike. Even the passions of your followers can be used for my whims. I believe we had a bet, Peryite." Molag Bal hissed with a vicious grin.

"'Unleash plague upon plague and my followers will not care for me and the mortals will only care for themselves letting their fellows to rot.' The allotted time has past. I have a good memory, Molag Bal." Peryite grumbled.

"Then, I have come to claim him as my own." the prince of rape announced. Furaldur stared at him in horror.

"He's still one of mine!" Peryite shouted violently.

Claudia let the three bicker, holler and rage. It was what she had heard that mattered. There was no cure for any of this. Furaldur did not do any of this out of some twisted glee. There was a science to this. He had been performing experiments, offerings intended to form a more perfect sickness. Her form of vampirism was one of its many results. There would be no cure for her. Taking a shuddering breath, the vampire realized there was really only one option left to her now. She readied her blade.

"Enough, all of you." yet another voice broke out in the cacophony of the argument. Looking above their heads, all three of the contenders saw the familiar shape of Azrua's star signaling her own herald.

"Enough, Molag Bal. You have spoken too soon." the gentler voice chided.

"Why is that?" the Daedric Lord raged contemptously.

It was in that moment the three daedric lords spotted Claudia sprinting across the room, rapier held high. Furaldur had no time to react except only to turn his head to spot his unexpected demise. in one moment the blade went through him and Claudia kept running. A single tear formed in her eye as she continued to push his body on her path forward. She knew that all of this madness was being held in place by Furaldur's abilities. She knew that this was the only way to end it all for all of them. Claudia allowed herself one last tranquil feeling, the sight of the sun gently falling from the open window; the very window she ran through taking Furaldur with her on a sheer drop down to the desert floor.

"I always take care of my own, Molag Bal." Azura explained. "Somewhere up her line, as shown by the bonemold bow she and her family carried, was a Dunmer, a servant who dedicated themselves to me. I keep my promises, I had watched over all of them during their time of greatest need. You should know better, Molag Bal. She and those that she rallied have proven otherwise. There are still mortals who will care for others though their worlds fall apart and break asunder."

Whatever further discussion they had was lost on the mortal plane because their connection to the medium was severed. All that mattered was that Molag Bal was not happy with the general outcome.

Down in the stairwell, the three had formed themselves into a phalanx of sorts. It was simple, effective and utilized their talents to the best of their abilities. Sibylla stood in the fore, shield raised and ax ready to strike quick, punitive blows to anything that lingered too long. For anything that sought to overwhelm Sibylla or was out of her reach, Bann-Je would intervene from behind, his agility and blades slicing off anything that threatened her. Also behind and besides the Argonian, Do'Ravier launched spell after discouraging spell into the creature. With the way they were working they could have easily held back an army. Sadly, the creature was still forcing them to retreat, slowly, but stone cold clearly they were losing.

"Just a few more steps and we'll be barging in on Claudia and the mage." Do'Ravier reported, ear bending low in discouragement.

"We just got to keep holding on. Who knows, maybe once we show up we can find a way to turn this around." Sibylla asserted, knocking away another tentacle.

"It might already be over." Bann-Je murmured.

"Then tell him that!" Do'Ravier retorted, motioning at the creature.

The mass of muscle and flesh suddenly went limp and collapsed on the floor. For a moment the three continued holding their weapons up and stared in skepticism and shock at the pathetic sight. Eventually, Do'Ravier decided that something catastrophic had just happened to it and gave the creature an experimental poke with his spear.

"...It might be dead." the Khajiit shrugged.

"Well, we're not going out the way we came." Sibylla murmured softly, noticing that the abomination had so forced itself into the stairwell that it completely blocked the passage with its mass. There was no telling how much muscle and tissue they'd have to hack through and that was not a prospective they wanted to consider at the moment.

"Ugh, certainly no way we're going that way. It would have to be scrubbed nine times to be thoroughly sure." Bann-Je groaned in disgust.

"We should check on Claudia." Do'Ravier stated, just as much to himself as to the others.

As if sensing a connection with their current state of events, the group rushed up to the top of the stairs only to find it empty. Only a brief glance was cast on the silent runes on the floor. Otherwise, there was nothing else to be seen and it very much bothered the group. Where had the mage, and more important Claudia, gone?

"Can you make sense of the runes, Do'Ravier?" Sibylla asked curiously, still searching for clues herself.

"I'm looking. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense at the moment." Do'Ravier replied, meticulously studying the markings.

"They went out the window." Bann-Je announced forlornly, gazing down on the sand below.

"What?" Sibylla cried, Do'Ravier rushing up behind her.

Down below they saw the Claudia's familiar orange desert robes sprawled out on the sands. There might have been yet another body below the robes and after some careful examination it was clear the the body had been Furaldur's.

"I'm certain I can see movement down there." Bann-Je murmured.

"It's probably the wind. It's daylight out there." Sibylla frowned sadly. There was no denying what had happened to their friend.

"Well, this is our only way down. Please do not resist, I will levitate us down." Bann-Je informed, casting the proper spell and lifting all three of them out of the window and down the tower. The exercise was quite taxing on the lizard and the last couple of feet went by a little faster than the rest of their journey. Fortunately, the sands provided a semi-soft landing.

"Oh, Claudia." Sibylla whimpered sadly.

"I wonder if she did this on purpose." Do'Ravier muttered to himself.

"Are we sure she's dead?" Bann-Je inquired. He got sharp looks from the others. They might have considered scolding him until the orange robes shuffled again and a familiar voice let out an agonized moan.

"Claudia?" Do'Ravier inquired, hauling the robes up. He immediately regretted doing that.

Claudia had turned lobster red and it was quite clear that both the fall and exposure to sunlight had given her enough pain to consider. Instinctively, the three rushed to do something. The Khajiit quickly covered whatever exposed skin of hers under her robes again while Sibylla held her shield over their fallen leader to provide some shade. Noticing a cleft formed by the walls caused a section of it crumbling in from over the years, Bann-Je hurried them all towards it so they could get her out of the sunlight. Along the way, Do'Ravier pricked his arm with one of the Dwemer blood containers and filled up the cylinder before forcing it towards Claudia's mouth from which she began to suck greedily. Once they got her into the shade and she was safely stabilized, they pulled away her hood to see the damage.

She was red; redder than a beet and it was clear that she was in agony. Otherwise, it did not look like she had sustained any broken bones or other injuries despite the fall. Naturally, exposure to the sun was devastating enough for her but gave Do'Ravier a moment of pause.

"You're not dead. You should have turned to ash by now. The effects of sunlight are usually very quick." the Khajiit observed. Through hisses of pain and sharp breathes, the vampire talked back to him.

"...Furaldur...was looking for a sickness, that prolonged life. Corpus...helps. But...I think vampirism is...not much different...maybe he found a strain that...is resistant to sunlight."

"Heh, that would certainly make you different." Do'Ravier chuckled nervously.

"No different than say, me. And the other me." Bann-Je said.

"Well, looks like you won't be leaving us anytime soon." Sibylla added with a smile.

Claudia just let herself rest. Despite the pain and the fact that she felt like she just got out of a blast furnace,she felt both relief and fear. She was afraid of what to do now. She was not cured and apparently standing out in the sun would not solve the problem. She was going to need blood. There was not going to be any quick solution to this. And still, Claudia could not deny the fact that it was over. The mission that started in High Rock over a year ago was finally put to rest. She no longer had to worry about a rogue mage on her conscience.

"...I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm not cured." Claudia sighed to all of them.

"It doesn't mean you can't continue on without being a threat. Zelphia has behaved herself for the last century or so." Do'Ravier explained.

"I always did tell people back in the temple that when you're confronted with circumstances you cannot change, you can always change how you see them and your attitudes about them. You can still do some good, Claudia." Sibylla suggested.

"I suppose so." Claudia murmured, watching the sun overhead with her sapphire eyes, glad to be in the safety of the shadows. She still had a lot of thinking to do. She realized the answers probably would not come to her immediately, maybe not even within the next few months. But, she had grown used to living with uncertainty and questions. She couldn't change that, but like Sibylla said, she could always try to find ways to do good for others.

"So. Do you think you more room in your tower for another vampire?" Claudia asked.

"...I'm sure we'll find a place for you." Do'Ravier nodded.

"I have so much cleaning to do." Bann-Je grumbled.

Claudia decided that there would be a great many changes she would have to endure. There were also far too many questions plaguing her. That didn't mean she had to throw away everything in her life. There were still a few good things she wanted to keep around, even if they were a little crazy and had a tendency to get into trouble. She could live with that. So far had done their best to keep her alive too.

The Bedouins tell stories at night as they were the ones most affected by this incident. Within a year some tribes were already returning to the site and found that it had been emptied as if nothing had ever occurred there. There were no further incidents but they walked the abandoned city more carefully these days, the walls echoing of a dark deed committed within its halls.

There is also talk of an old Dwemer tower run by a Khajiiti mage and thorough Argonian. Dromedaries passing through the harrowing Alik'r route find a welcome respite there despite the eccentricities of the people there. For one, there is some whispered talk about the eccentric and unstable behavior about the Argonian and Khajiit. It doesn't help how another Redguard mage always seems to be hanging a little too closely to the Khajiit. Often times there is a burly Nord warrior encased in expensive armor who visits the place and despite her intimidating size and loud personality, no one has been able to pin a story of her acting dangerously.

More curiously are the rumors that every now and then they ask a passing guest to donate some blood. The mages insists they are strictly for research purposes, the nature of magic being complex and all. No one knows what exactly their research is about and they do not tell anyone, the Argonian only insists that "all the instruments are scrubbed thoroughly three times."

Sometimes people ask about the undead, daedric cults or even vampires. The tower residents only say they have not seen any of those. Especially not in their closets.

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><p><em>Author's Note: Done and done. Thank you all for those who read and reviewed. I hope you enjoyed it. Special kudos to Agent94 for lore checking and plot checking. Seriously, if you thought this even turned out half okay, send a thanks his way.<em>


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